


Hope Is the Thing With Feathers

by LeperMessiah



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And eventual happy ending, Blood and Violence, But was it?, Capitalism sucks, Dark Fairy Tale, Eventual Smut, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, I meant glacial, Implied noncon with Hux, Oppressed workers, Other bad things happen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Professor Rey, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Student Ben, There is no Community College without U, alternative universe, art classes, but there is smut, did I say slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 82,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeperMessiah/pseuds/LeperMessiah
Summary: Professor Rey finds life as an adjunct professor not quite what she expected. There is the satisfaction of teaching using her major and degrees, but the isolation and job insecurity can cause lacerating sadness, insecurity, and poverty.One semester, an ex-military student walks in late into to her classroom on the first day of school, and soon she starts to experience a series of emotions while he's her student. Ben Solo is slightly mysterious but also seems to contain artistic promise. Meanwhile, she is plagued by strange and tantalizing dreams portraying a dark fairy tale.Can Rey overcome a lack of trust created by her college-aged experiences to form a strong bond in a new relationship? And what of the opaque background of her student, who is at pains to seem helpful, but who also conceals his family life and history.Story is set in two time periods, late 90's and late 00's, a time of changes in social and economic life in the U.S.





	1. In These Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a long-time Star Wars fan who thought my first foray into fiction in the fandom would be a strictly canon in-universe story with Rey and Kylo, my favorites. I was surprised when this AU nudged its way into my brain and wouldn't take no for an answer. 
> 
> I enjoy Professor Ren fics as much as the next person, but being involved in academia for a number of years didn't allow me to shed my experiences to the fullest to escape into the narrative. The truth is that college classes are being taught by part-timers (adjuncts) who are a largely female workforce. I wished that someone would write something more in line with my experiences, and then realized that that someone could be me. I've never written a long-form fiction work before, so this is kind of a learning curve. With smut. 
> 
> This is written and nearly done, I'll update every Saturday night. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Dedicated to all my fellow lady-academians.

Prologue  

 

_She feels it again.  It is dark out.  Sleep eludes her.  Another hot dry night, eyeballs scratching, long hours passing, thoughts racing, feelings sluggish._  

_She sighs.  This isn’t working.  Her body won’t still into repose, her brain is too tired to truly think about anything.  She dips resignedly into a vision that usually works, though not without some effort._

 

_She thinks of the ocean._  

_The eye of her mind scans quickly from above, she’s a flying creature, speeding above the surface.  Quickly and strongly, her birdish body quivers and strokes, smelling the waves, the dark, the power.  It is so quiet, but there is a gentle roar, the waters rushing powerfully below her._

_She picks up speed.  She cannot see the end of the waters—they are always vast, endless.  Glowing darkly from the depths.  Her mind sighs with pleasure, she feels her muscles uncurl, a sensation growing. Shyly she brushes a hand beneath her covers, and into her body, adjusting.  Only for a moment, to settle in, does she pause.  She returns to the ocean._

_Her wings beat faster and stronger, and she sees it.  She sees the island.  She turns to fly faster.  Under her hand, she ignites._

 

 

_Summer 2007_

 

Niima Community College had all the academic ambiance of a faceless office park.  Most of the newest parts of campus were glassed-in structures that reflected hot sun across the pitiless expanse of the parking lots.  Arriving after the earliest morning hours meant a long walk across the asphalt, which was radiating waves of heat that were visible in the late morning light.  Rey’s thin shoes were hardly a match for the burning she felt through her soles, and she threw dignity to the wind, prancing on the balls of her feet, trying to move quickly.  

 

She was already perspiring heavily from a long airless drive in her old car, windows down on the freeway in an attempt to capture any stray puffs of breeze.  Being a part-time lecturer meant luxuries like fixing the air conditioner slid to last on the list of life’s priorities.  She was looking forward to dashing into the huge glass box glittering at the end of the parking lot, anticipating a gust of artificially chilled air.  She’d try to arrive earlier on her second class day and attempt to grab a spot closer to the buildings, before the lot filled up, to minimize the deathly trudge from her car during the month of August. 

 

Rey checked into her Dean’s office, to pick up a copy of her classroom assignment. Being a part-timer meant not being choosy about when and where you got a teaching spot.  She was actually lucky that Maz had contacted her two weeks ago about picking up this extra drawing class, instead of the day before the first class meeting, a not uncommon occurrence on other campuses.  

 

However, that little run of good luck had to end swiftly.  “Hey, kiddo,” her Dean drawled out fondly, but in a tone of warning. Rey tried to suppress a spurt of anxiety: “Oh, hey, Maz. Did the class get cancelled?” Visions of extra groceries and maybe even a car repair started to waver.  Always better not in live in hope when you exist at the bottom of the academic food chain.  “Oh no, the class is still running,” Maz said.  “It’s just that space is limited this semester, classroomwise.  You’ll be teaching in the Outpost.”  Rey groaned inwardly, but was relieved to hear she wasn’t losing the gig. 

 

The new Organa Arts building was a coveted location for class assignments, lined with big windows, with the latest in lighting, nice AV equipment, and copious matching new furniture.  However, newer, non-tenured, teachers were rarely placed into classrooms in the new building, but had to make do with the oversized and hulking old stucco building, the original Art building, which looked like it might have predated the actual founding of the college itself.  

 

Architecturally, it had started out life as a large mission-style building, and would not have been unattractive had matters remained there.  However, the 1970s had not been kind to it, and it had acquired a brutalist addition with a hulking corridor of thick concrete, with dark and cork-like wood paneling on the second story of the addition.  An optimist in the early 1990’s had attempted a fix with some “modern” lighting fixtures around the structure, and there was a small art gallery tucked into a stray foyer that had otherwise lacked purpose.  At that point, mercifully, the improvements had ceased. The Trustees discussed knocking it down every few years, but it still served as an overflow space when enrollment was high.  

 

It also had no air-conditioning.

 

Rey sighed as Maz’ secretary gave her the key to her classroom, not looking forward to another long walk, this time across the vast courtyard that separated the main Art department from the location of the Outpost.  The newer trees around the recent structure were too young to create any shade.  Class hadn’t even started yet, and Rey was wilted from heat and walking.  However, she rallied, grateful to be working at all, and gathered her tote-bag full of syllabi and supply lists to her room for the semester.  

 

She had already printed out her roster--there were twenty students, just enough to run the class without threat of being cancelled.  If a few more students showed up, that would give her a cushion of enrollment security.  Hopefully the students would find the building in time for class.  

 

Rey opened up the room, and turned on the overhead lights‑not too bad, the room was on the side with light in the morning, but wasn’t yet too hot to work.  There was a long sink in the back of the room, so students wouldn’t have to wash their brushes in the bathroom sinks.  A line of elderly drawing sawhorses rested under the windows, and there were an assortment of chairs in different styles.  A table near the door completed the decor, and Rey plopped her tote-bag on it, claiming it for her desk.  She spread out the papers she would distribute to the class, and got ready for the arrival of her students.  The first day was always the worst, waiting to see who was enrolled, and getting to know a new group of strangers.  

 

The hour finally arrived though, and her students trickled in as they found the classroom, and took seats.  Rey was heartened to see that most were young; future transfer students taking their art requirement, no doubt.  There were a couple of older students, looking like retirees, attending the class for enrichment and community.

 

Rey had taught for three years at Niima, and was now practiced in getting class started--she went over the syllabus, the class requirements, talked about supplies needed, and told the students about her sketchbook requirement.  A small groan went around the room, but she attempted to look encouraging, but also a bit severe.  This is when having an crisp British accent came in handy in California.  “Now really, it will be second nature by the time you are done with the semester, and it is a verrrrry rewarding discipline for the rest of your life outside this class. It is 50% of your grade, so please, take this seriously.”  

 

There was a small shuffle around the classroom, and Rey looked up, then realized that her students were all peering behind her at the door to the classroom.  She craned her neck around, and saw there was a tall man in the door.  “Uh, is this Drawing 100? The class listing just says “TBA” for the teacher and I’m not sure...” he trailed off.  Rey said, “Yes, I’m Rey, your teacher.  This is the only section of Drawing 100 in this time period, so you’re with me.  Please come in.” 

 

She gestured to a sawhorse, so the man could seat himself, and she examined the latecomer.  “We just went over the syllabus, and so forth, but if you can stay for a moment after class, I can go over it with you, so we don’t take up class time.”  He grunted assent.  He was late 20s or early 30s, and being late to the first day of class was not a good sign.  Men his age were rare in community college, and Rey found they tended to fall into one of three categories: ex-con, aimless rich manchild, or former military.  She inwardly prayed he was not a felon.   Non-traditional re-entry students could be cool or they could have a lot of baggage, making class difficult with strange life experiences and jittery energy levels.  But it was too early to judge.  The man seemed to have an air of intensity, with longish black hair.  He was tall enough that his legs jutted out a bit awkwardly around the sawhorse, but he folded his hands quietly over the front edge and prepared to listen to the rest of class. 

 

Rey opened up a large pad of drawing paper, picked up a stick of vine charcoal, took a breath, and started. “Let’s talk about observation.”  

 

Thirty charcoal-stained minutes later, class ended.  Rey could never get through a class without getting smudges all over her face, and the sweat pooling under her hairline was threatening to move south.  It was now so hot, she couldn’t wait to pack up and get back home to try to cool off--but first she needed to meet with her tardy mystery student. 

 

“Hi, I’m Ben? Sorry I was so late, I couldn’t find the room.  I was lost in the other Art building, until someone saw me and steered me in the right direction.  I promise it won’t happen again.”  Rey said, “Oh yes, that is pretty common, no worries.” She was relieved he didn’t seem too edgy.  “Are you...working toward a degree?” He looked self-conscious, no doubt realizing that he was both too old and too young in comparison to the rest of her class.  

 

“I was in the Marines,” Ben said.  “I’m going back to school, I was thinking maybe film?  I’m not sure yet.  I have to take an art class for any degree though, so I thought I’d get it over with.”  Rey silently blessed the California education art requirements, which created work for teachers like her.  “Well, I’ll try to make it as pleasant as possible, but we do have work to do.  I do a sketchbook check every month, and you should spend at least 30 minutes a day drawing in your sketchbook.  In class we will draw from still-life, and work on portraiture, and for our midterm, I will be doing portfolio reviews with all students.”   

 

A former Marine, not a spoiled rich kid from the hill, or an ex-con.  That could be good or bad.  Student veterans sometimes found the free-wheeling atmosphere of an art class a little challenging.  On the other hand, they tended to be disciplined about doing the required work, and didn’t slack and have to be cajoled like the younger students.  Ben examined the syllabus seriously, seeming anxious.  Rey looked at him while he read.  Nice hair, like raven wings, clothes not too fancy, but clean.  Rey didn’t trust overly groomed men.

 

“I think you’ll do fine.  You just have to do everything I tell you to do, exactly right.” Rey said, with a small smile.  He looked up, and saw she was half-joking and relaxed his face a bit.  “Ok, to the letter,” he said.  “Alright then,” Rey said, eager to be out of the heat. “Yes, thank you,” said Ben, “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”  She was gathering up her supplies while they were talking, and he took the hint and left.  She observed somewhat ruefully that he hardly seemed to notice the heat at all as he disappeared from the doorway and entered the volcano-like atmosphere outside.  Rey took a breath in preparation, locked her door, and steeled herself for the walk to her car.

 

An hour’s drive later, in the baking sun of the freeway, Rey finally arrived back home.  Rose and Finn were still at work, and Rey looked forward to decompressing after the stress of first-day jitters.  The apartment was not beautiful, a cramped warren with small windows on the first floor.  It could get crowded with her roomies there, even though she loved them both.  Tomorrow she’d have to go to her other job, part-time file clerk at another nearby college, so this precious afternoon was a rare slice of free time to herself.  She left the apartment door open, letting air circulate from outside, enjoying the crisp smell of the freshly cut strip of lawn outside their entryway.  Anything cool and green was welcome on a day like this, even this sad little nod to nature in an anonymous condo complex. 

 

Rey opened the refrigerator to check on the prospects there.  A summer with no class assignments had meant short rations for the previous twelve weeks, but having this drawing class meant things would look up soon.  It would be hard to wait until the end of the month for that first paycheck, but at least she knew it was coming. It would be nice to not have to sell plasma for a semester.

 

There was a large pitcher of iced mint tea, which was about all Rey had a taste for at the moment.  She cracked several ice cubes into a tumbler, and poured a large glass of tea.  She held the glass up to her face, enjoying the wet condensation from the glass, pressing it to her forehead and cheeks.  Then she took a large slug of her drink and headed to the couch to read.  Slowly her eyes start to droop from the heat, and the exertion of the day, and in another few moments, she fell asleep.   

 

_She dreams of the ocean, the island.  This time, she lands, her feet feeling cool moss.  She feels she has been flying for hours, desperate to land, looking for others.  Her flight was so long, so isolated, so lonely.  She would do anything to feel close to another being, to find those she belongs with._

 

_There is a house on the island, with light in the window, to guide someone in the darkness.  She walks over, feeling anticipation and excitement rising in her stomach.  Her hand touches the door, and it opens.  She walks into the house, listening for a greeting, a word._

 

_If anyone was there before, they are gone now.  She falls to her knees on the floor, bereft._  

 

Rey wakes up with tears on her face, but can’t remember falling asleep.  She doesn’t remember the dream.  Just the feeling.


	2. “Waiting for a new England, looking for another world”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I have labelled the chapter headings with the dates they take place in, so hopefully time jumps won't be too confusing. Just note that this chapter is a jump back in time, and to check the year on the chapters going forward so you know where you are.)

Summer 1997 

 

Rey had fallen in love with the California School of Design the minute she saw the campus.  It was a small gem of a location, located on the hills in Niima, ringed by oaks and pines, with flowering trumpet vines on old buildings.  She was on a visit with her friend Rose, a rare treat for a working-class kid with no parents from England.  Rose was an undergrad in engineering at nearby San Junipero State College.  

 

With her portfolio, Rey could have attended art school in her native country pretty much for free, but nearly two decades of bad childhood memories made a move to a new country seem more attractive.  CSD had accepted her, and her visit to the school in June had at first been simply an excuse to visit her friend.  However, her trip through the light-filled painting studio connected her to a vast feeling that she could paint anything in there, and that she would explore worlds she’d never percieved before.  

 

California was totally unlike England in every way, and Niima seemed magical that summer.  Sweet little craftsman houses on wide streets were surrounded by blooming lavender bushes, and the sun filtered lazily through endless glasses of cheap but excellent wine, grapes pressed only miles away.  Rey tasted pesto, polenta, local goat cheese, and real, fresh, avocados for the first time that summer.  Rose’s friends adopted Rey immediately, and they attended enchanted dinners in apartments and warehouses, full of the promise of new experiences and sensual delights.

 

“I am the patron saint of bad decisions.” Rey was reclined on the couch, full of pinot noir and feeling free and with a sense of a happy future for the first time in her life.  She didn’t fully trust that sense.  

 

“Yes. But why would you let that stop you now?” Rose was right.  

 

By the end of the week, Rey knew that she was moving to California.  She had no ties to England, she was an orphan with no living relatives that she knew of, having grown up in foster care.  She disposed of what little she had back at home, packed the rest of her belongings into two suitcases, and moved onto the couch at Rose’s place in Niima while they looked for a bigger place for them both.  

 

They found a two-bedroom with hardwood floors, built-in bookcases, a fireplace, and mid-century deco fixtures.  Sun flowed into the living room, and the air was fragrant with the warm scent of the star-jasmine wafting through the window.  There was ample space, neither woman had much furniture--they spent the rest of the summer working low-key retail jobs, and on weekends hitting the flea market for a couch, tables and chairs, and odd ornaments.  

 

Rey enrolled in a drawing and painting class, a video class, English, and Art History Survey.  She tried to ignore the high numbers as she checked off the student loan boxes on her financial aid.  Hopefully next year she’d be more eligible for financial aid, since she’d have residency.  

 

One thing that was nice about CSD was that the student body was 80% women.  Classes were supportive and kind, and Rey made some of her own friends quickly.  She got close especially to Jessika, an acerbic printing major who was in Rey’s video class with her.  The two liked to sit in the back and pass notes about some of the more overinflated projects from the class egotists, who looked down on the “trad media” students who littered their classes for their new media graduation requirement.  The “trads” were just as hostile, with an undertone of antagonism against the students who had grown up with fancy cameras and video equipment. 

 

The teaching assistant for the class was a haughty ginger named Armitage.  He was still in the Master’s program at CSD, but was seemingly on track to join the faculty the moment he got his degree.  Armitage already had a gallery representing him and had had a show in the nearby experimental art space that was packed on Saturday nights with art-goers.  

 

He made sure to express his disdain for the non-video majors under his tutelage.  “Yours is a dying media.  Everything is going to be on computers in ten years, and you lot are still scraping your daubs on cave walls--it is so unevolved. In the future, you’ll be working in dead-end coffee shops jobs, and we’ll be running the show.  Analog media is deader than dinosaurs, and the quicker you realize that, the better.  We are going to destroy you.”

 

“Yikes,” Jessika whispered.  “I’ve heard that at least once a semester, a student runs out crying during one of his crits.”  

 

“Jesus,” Rey whispered back. 

 

“It’s usually one that he’s...you know,” Jessika muttered.  

 

“Ick, who would do that with such a repellant human being?” Rey was astonished and disgusted, as she realized what her friend was alluding to.  

 

“That’s one drawback of being in a college that is mostly women: even the most horrible and psycho guy will eventually manage to find someone willing to fuck him,” said Jessika.  Rey shuddered.  She privately vowed to never be that desperate.  She might still be a virgin, but she wasn’t so eager to change her status that she’d sink to that level, ever. 

 

“Do you two have something you’d like to share with the class, ladies?” Armitage had a sonar-like ability to detect when attention was not trained entirely on him, and he was pointedly looking at both Rey and Jessika in the back row.  “No,” they both chimed in unison, and Rey pretended she was deeply examining her sketchbook. 

 

English was taught by a local poet who had been connected to the Beat movement back in the day, who had had poems published in obscure but artistically significant magazines like _Semina_.  The class knew this because he reminded them every week, in ranging stories that delved into juicy gossip about formerly famous West Coast avant-garde artists that he knew before he’d settled for tenure at a small art college.  The first ten minutes of class would usually be devoted to the assigned text, but would quickly devolve into the professor’s reminiscences until five minutes before the end of class.  “Oh shit, is that the time? Well, keep up the work in your journals, I’ll be checking them at midterms. There will also be some in-class reading, so dig deep.”   

 

As students shuffled their books and notebooks into backpacks, one student raised his hand.  He was unusual in that his looks didn’t conform to the standard art school male of pale, black clothes, and “serious poet” facial hair.  The professor tried to pretend he didn’t see the raised hand, but the man then cleared his throat loudly, which got the rest of the class’s attention.  In the ensuing quiet, the professor said, “Um, yes.  It’s Poe, right? Well why don’t we save it for next class meeting?” 

 

“Professor Tarkin, I just had one quick question.  It seems like from our reading list, we are covering mostly dead white male authors.  Don’t you think that we should break away from the established Eurocentric canon and read books that reflect more of the lived experiences of the students who go to school here? I mean, there are all these women here, and there is only one woman on the reading list.  I am Chicano, and I don’t see anyone here either who has my background.” 

 

All the woman in the class nodded in sympathy and looked at the professor, who looked at the clock.  It was almost lunchtime, and he had a group of buddies already waiting for him down the block for a chummy and beery lunch at the pub, Canto Bight Arms.  

 

“Well, Poe.  You bring up a good point.  Perhaps you’d like to work on a list of things you’d like to see, and I can fit them into the syllabus.” The few males in the class looked a bit glummer at that but were unwilling to get into a debate about it on an empty stomach.  Rey watched the classroom dynamic with fascination.  The handsome young man had strategically picked his target and deployed his salvo at just the right moment.

 

Poe lingered a bit, as women came up to him after class, warmly thanking him for bringing up the gender and race imbalance in the reading list.  He nodded sympathetically, looking serious and supportive.  He then brightened, as if an idea had just hit him.

 

“Hey, you guys should come check out my band this weekend.  We are playing at CBA, we’re opening for Aurebesh.  We’re called The Oxford Commas, you’d love it.”  

 

Rey snorted as he masterfully pressed handbills into the eager hands of his audience.  “That’s great Poe, we will be there! Gotta support a supporter!”  The young man glowed with sincerity and the pleasure of having prevailed in securing his intended targets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from Billy Bragg's song, "A New England," which Kirsty MacColl covered more than once.   
> https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/other-peoples-songs/a-new-england/


	3. Children of the revolution, coming out to play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting two chapters today because I made moodboard for Chapter 4, and I don't want to wait until next week to post it. #authorhasnochill
> 
> Chapter 3 is another flashback and then Chapter 4 is a time skip forward.

Fall 1997

 

Rey ended up dragging Rose to the show at the Canto Bight Arms on Saturday night to check out Poe’s band.  It was all-ages, so it was full of underclassmen from all three colleges in town.  “This is like punk prom,” said Rose. “Ugh, except for the jocks,” said Rey.  A gaggle of male Business majors from State were making horking noises and hooting through their fists at regular intervals.  There was also a fair bit of back-pounding.  

 

Rey and Rose went wide around the group and went and joined the art school contingent near the front of the stage, huddled together for protection.  Soon the house lights went down and there was a blast of guitar from the amps.  The Oxford Commas were a combination of arts and humanities majors from Niima Community, State, and CSD, so there was loud cheering from all sections of the bar.  It was an all-woman band, with the exception of Poe.

 

Poe was the drummer, because of course he was.   

 

Challenging as it may have been to twinkle at the audience from behind a drum set in a dark bar, Poe managed to beam his charming smile out into the first five rows in front of the stage.  The band launched into “She Turns My Page.” 

Rey recognized some of her English 100 classmates jumping up and down energetically nearby.  Rey and Rose got into the song and also started dancing crazily, laughing and sweating.  The band kept up a fast-paced set, with short surf-garage inspired music.  The crowd got more packed in and soon the dancers were more of a squashed-in mass, writhing in unison.  The temperature started rising. 

 

During a brief pause between songs, Poe tossed his drumsticks out to the crowd, one off to each side of the stage.  Rey intercepted one before it sailed into her ear, “Oy!”  Another girl squealed off to the right, having captured the other.  Poe picked up another pair of sticks and got back into position.  The lead singer of the band, a woman with purple hair, turned around with an arched eyebrow, gave him a look, and then rolled her eyes.  Poe affected an innocent expression, and then smirked. 

 

The band started up one of their local favorites, “Sand Rat Dragster,” and suddenly the jock herd bolted into the center of the crowd.  “Uggghhhh, they fucking suck,” yelled Rose.  The smell of beer wafted richly from their beefy bodies, as they pogoed gracelessly into the younger audience members in the front.  One of the alpha males began moshing and yelling to his friends to do the same.  People started stumbling and getting thrown around.  There were dismayed shrieks from several girls.

 

There was a young Black man in a leather jacket and a short mohawk attempting to put himself between the bodies of the younger dancers and the jocks, trying to absorb some of the impact.  “Hey mate, we’re all trying to have fun here, no need to get pushy.”  Rey recognized him from her Art History Survey class.  Finn, that was his name.  Rey nudged Rose to show her what Finn was trying to do, and they tried to sway closer to him to help him shield the youngest kids, some of whom looked like they might be from Niima High School.  A few other of the older people also joined the line, pushing back against the jocks, attempting to expel their pit from the crowd.

 

Rey felt a fist start pummeling the back of her head, whether in anger, or just in time to the music, she couldn’t say. However, she was enraged. “Fuck,” she exclaimed, and tried to push back harder against the big man behind her.  The pounding just increased.  With a sudden jolt of desperation, Rey remembered that she was holding Poe’s drumstick.  She gripped it tightly and rammed it as hard as she could behind her without looking, hoping to hit a soft spot.  Rey heard a high-pitched yelp, and there was suddenly a feeling of space that opened up behind her.  

 

The relief didn’t last for long though, as the jocks fought back by beginning to throw plastic cups of beer on the crowd, and then at the band.  “Hey jerks,” yelled the singer. “I’m going to go down there and kick your asses if you don’t quit that.” 

 

Rose, Finn, and Rey were all joined by their hands, like a daisy-chain, and the shoving was threatening to get even worse.  They allowed the younger kids to start pulling away from the front of the stage off to safety over to the side of the bar.  Once the kids had gotten out of the pit, all the people holding hands ran quickly behind to join them.  They removed themselves so rapidly from the front edge of the jock pit, which had been leaning heavily into them, that a line of jersey-clad bodies stumbled into the suddenly empty space and fell into the front of the stage.  There was a roar of rage, “Fuck you bitches, we’ll fuck you.” 

 

“Did they expect us to just stay there and--hold them up?” asked Rey, sweeping sweat off her forehead.  “There’s a metaphor in there somewhere,“ said Finn.  “Damn, skippy,” said Rose. 

 

Finn said, “Let’s go outside, it’s too crazy in here.”  Both women nodded and followed him out the front door.  All three slipped into the group outside, some were smoking, and others just telling battle stories about the struggle inside the bar.   

 

“I’m Rey, I remember you from class.”  “Oh yeah,” said Finn.  “I’m Rose, I go to State: not artistic, before you ask.”  “Well, I’m in design, which CSD treats like a lower-life form, so I don’t judge,” said Finn.  He smiled.  It turned out that his cousin was The Oxford Commas’ bassist.  They all lived together in a live-work space down in the old canning district, in a converted factory.  “Holdo, she’s like the den mum, keeps our shit together,” Finn said.  Finn worked in a framing shop with a casual dress code that didn’t mind his mohawk, or his school hours.  With five roommates, rent and food were pretty manageable.  

 

Poe emerged from the front door and spotted Finn and headed toward them.  “Hey, wasn’t that epic?”  “Legendary, mate,” Finn drawled, “one for the history books.”  They exchanged a longer look, and Rose and Rey glanced at each other.  Rose cleared her throat.  “Well, we should probably take off.”  Finn said, “You girls should come hang out with all of us sometime.”  He took a Sharpie out of his jacket pocket.  Rose held out her arm, and Finn wrote a phone number on it.  “Someone will answer the phone eventually, as long as it’s after the coffee’s on.”  

 

Rey and Rose walked toward their bus stop, enjoying the cool night air under the streetlights, ears still slightly ringing from the loud music.  “Why are all the cutest guys gay?” asked Rose.  Rey couldn’t answer.  It was one of life’s deepest mysteries.

 

***

On Monday, as it happened, the first person Rey ran into again on campus was Finn. “Hey, you recovered?” “On yeah, still a little deaf though,” said Rey.  “So, we are having a Day of the Dead brunch at our place next Sunday.  Bring your mates and come. Poe’s making his specialty, and we’ll have trash mimosas.”  “Can I bring Jessika and Rose?” “Of course, we have plenty of room. Place is vast,” said Finn.

 

The bus to the old canning district meandered through an industrial wasteland--empty lots stacked with old tires, used and rotting palettes, and disused fields fallen to weeds.  Rey started to get excited though when she saw the factory buildings, blasted down to scumbled layers of paint—several of the building-fronts had ad hoc outdoor sculptures created out of obscenely twisted mannequins, or giant robots built out of car parts and elderly household appliances.  “Far out,” Rey said.  “I hope your vaccinations are up to date,“ said Rose. Jessika looked misty and eager to get a closer look.  She had her camera out and ready to go even as they stepped off the bus. 

 

“Fuck, we’ll look like tourists,” said Rey.

 

“Tourists don’t come down here,” said Rose. “They just don’t.”

 

 There _was_ a distinct odor of pee, and Rey hoped it was animal and not human.

 

Finn had said to proceed to a large roll-up door on the side of the building, where they would find a large spray-painted notice that said “Beware of the leopard,” which he seemed to find enormously amusing.  Rey didn’t get it.  Rose chortled. “It’s from _Hitchhiker’s Guide_. I thought you were English?” Jessika rolled her eyes but snapped a picture. 

 

Rey buzzed at the door next to the corrugated roll-up door.  Holdo answered and exclaimed, “Yay! So glad to see you here, come on in.”  She was dressed up in a gray vintage wrap-around dress and emerald-green satin Mary-Janes.  “Careful, don’t let the dog out.” 

 

A short and fat little dog was straining to get between all of their legs to make a break for it.  Holdo gave him an affectionate shove with her foot as she held the door open to let in Rose, Rey, and Jessika.  “You are doing us a huge favor, Poe is being insufferable, and he needs humbling.” 

 

“I heard that,” yelled Poe from further into the house.  Holdo rolled her eyes and led them all back toward the kitchen.  There was an amazing aroma coming from the stove, where Poe was standing with his sleeves rolled up and a dish-rag tossed over one shoulder in a jaunty manner.  Finn and his cousin the bassist were both wearing twin looks that betrayed long hours of suffering, and exchanged glances.  “Here, this is Pammich, my cousin,” said Finn. 

 

Pammich smiled at them all, and she gestured to a motley assortment of pressed glassware that had been recruited into service as mimosa glasses.  “This is DIY.  Cheapest bubbly on offer, and the trashiest mixers ever to touch alcohol, hence trash mimosas.”  “Sounds perfect,” said Jessika.  There was a carton of pink lemonade, one of cranberry juice, a can of mango nectar with words in Spanish on it, and a bottle of strawberry soda.  Several bottles of Barefoot Bubbly were chilling in a cooler full of ice, and a couple of them were already empty. 

 

“Kaydel is out getting more tortillas, but she said not to wait for her.” Kaydel was the guitarist for the Oxford Commas. 

 

Rey, Rose, and Jessika all lined up to mix up drinks.  “I’m making my specialty, my genius invention, you guys are in for a real treat.  Today, you feast on ‘Heuvos de Dameron’,” said Poe.  Finn shook his head. “That sounds like we’re eating your balls. You’re going to scare them.”

 

“It’s chilaquiles mixed with huevos rancheros,” Holdo whispered to the group.  Rey whispered back, “I don’t know what any of that means. In England we call tortillas ‘taco bread,’” Finn and Pammich nodded sympathetically, but the rest of the group looked at her in horror.  “Jesus,” said Rose, “this needs to be rectified. I have neglected your education.” 

 

“Bring us your finest salsas,” laughed Jessika.  Holdo cracked up and grabbed a bowl of tortilla chips and gestured down the hall to a larger common area.  Everyone grabbed their drinks.  “Salsa bar out here, “ said Holdo.  “If we stay in there, Poe will just make you help him.” 

 

Two battered sectional couches, non-matching, lined the long walls in the yawning warehouse.  Doors to various rooms were visible on the other walls, and there was a staircase leading up to another generously large space under the roof.  Skylights let in glowing light which made the whole room look like a cathedral—one that had been abandoned and then colonized by a group of poor musicians with too much stuff.  A wrought iron coffee table with a huge slab of wood on top of it was in front of the couches.  There were several bowls already on the table.

 

“Oh, tomato gravy,” said Rey, mostly to shock her friends.  “No,” said Rose. “Just, no.” 

 

Holdo pointed with her mimosa glass.  “Ranchera, fresca, tomatillo, and this orange one is hot death, I don’t know what it is called.  Just be careful.” 

 

The crackle of chips brought the little dog into the room at a dead run, which was pretty slow on his short legs.  “What—is he,” asked Jessika.  “Well, there’s some French bulldog in there, we think,” said Pammich, “but mostly he’s a mix of whatever whistling stranger caught the eye of his mum one day, and we don’t know what she was either.  His name is BeeBee.”  BeeBee’s tongue lolled out, comically long for his squashed-up face, looking like an old man trying to moisten his whole mouth.  He glared up hopefully at Rey, who was dipping a chip into the green tomatillo sauce. “DON’T feed him,” said Finn. “He’ll fart all night, and he sleeps with Poe, which means I have to sleep with him too.”

 

BeeBee made a sad series of groans and then flopped with a pained sigh at Rey’s feet.  

 

Everyone had drained their drinks and sampled all of the salsas when Poe called from the kitchen for people to come get their food.  It turned out Dameron’s day job was part-time cook at a local café’, Sagebrush, run by people who had formerly worked with chef Alice Waters in Berkeley.  His pride in his cooking was not without merit--the smells coming from the cast-iron pans were incredible.  “Serve yourself, eat as much as you want,” said Poe. “I’m on break now!”  There was a stack of thrift-store Fiestaware-like plates on the counter, and Rey filled up her plate with eggs, tortillas, and sliced fruit. She balanced cutlery on the plate and still managed to haul off with a freshly mixed mimosa as well. 

 

Poe was carrying a neck of champagne out with him and placed it on the table in the living room.  “Hey, look who made it back.”  Kaydel, who had finally arrived, was looking up at the roof with an air of mute sacrifice. “You would not believe how long that line was. Do not go to El Super on a Sunday after church.”  She ripped open the bag of tortillas with her teeth and placed it on the table.  “Hey, be careful there Martha Stewart,” said Poe. “Don’t want to scare our friends with your high-falutin’ ways.”  Holdo made a squeaking noise and said, “I’ll go get a plate for those.” 

 

When she returned with the plate, she also had another bottle of champagne, and a container of the pink lemonade. “This will save us trips,” she explained. It made perfect sense.

 

***

 

Rey would always remember that day somewhat hazily, but with fondness. Fortunately, Jessika took pictures even as the brunch disintegrated into a mess of sticky champagne and drunken laughter.  The pictures, when Jessika finally developed them at school, were classic. 

 

_“Oh my god, I don’t even remember sitting on his lap…”_

_“When did I change into that dress? Whose dress was it?”_

_“What were we even drinking at that point?”_

 

Kaydel had ended up driving Jessika, Rose, and Rey back to Rose and Rey’s apartment in the band’s van.  The events of the day didn’t break up until sundown, and everyone except Kaydel was too drunk to drive or to safely navigate public transit in the growing dark.  “You guys are all lightweights,” said Kaydel.  Finn and Pammich had joined the merry group in the van, to keep Kaydel company for the ride back to their place.  Pammich snickered.  “Well, we will just have to keep practicing.”  “That’s right,” gasped Finn, “You guys are welcome back anytime. Open house every third Sunday.  Holdo’s orders.”  “Well, if that’s an official order, there is no way we can refuse now,” Rose giggled. 

 

And so it was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm supposed to be getting ready for my own new semester, so naturally I'm working hard on this project instead. 
> 
> Chapter title is "Children of the Revolution" by Kirsty MacColl: https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/children-of-the-revolution/
> 
> (There's another song with the same title by T-Rex, but it's a different song.)


	4. Oh the days were hot and the nights were long

 

Fall 2007

 

“All right, sketchbooks due today, remember,” said Rey.  A small groan went around the room, and she delivered as severe a look to her class as she could muster.  It was difficult.  Rey was aware that she looked too young to really have gravitas, but she worked with what she had.  She sharpened her accent and peered over her glasses.  “Now please--pass them forward, and I will collect them.  I will return them next week.”

 

During the shuffle to do as she had requested, Rey opened up her large drawing pad on the sawhorse she had set up in front of the classroom stage, where she had assembled a still life.  With that done, she began to gather stacks of sketchbooks, which she placed into large canvas tote bags on her work-table.  From her case of supplies, she selected some pieces of charcoal and returned to her pad of paper.

 

“Today we will begin to look at how to use line thickness and density to vary your contour drawing.  I am using vine charcoal to begin my drawing and will then use compressed charcoal to bring out detail with thicker and more searching lines.”  Rey peered at the objects in front of her.  For today, she had set up a skull, nicknamed “Herbert” by the art department, along with a green wine glass, a warty-looking gourd, and a very elderly slipper, embroidered with gold.  

 

She touched her vine charcoal to the paper, and began with the top of the skull, using her eye to travel across the dome, and translating the movement of her eye to the path of her hand.  “Learning to draw well is a matter of practice and muscle memory.  Too often, students get caught up in trying to draw what they think that they see.  Use your eye, pretend your vision is an ant crawling across the surface of what you are looking at. Follow that ant with your hand--don’t look at your page, keep looking at the object you are drawing.”  

 

Herbert’s visage began to appear under her fingers, and she could hear murmurs of delight and recognition from her class.  Explaining drawing could sometimes seem like mystical mumbo-jumbo, but the results really spoke for themselves.  Technique was a matter of reaching out with your inner eye, re-learning how to see with your more of your senses and letting go of what your brain had been taught to think of as a “good” drawing.  She picked up her piece of compressed charcoal.

 

As always, Rey delighted in the dense and velvety lines.  It was difficult to remember to keep talking, as she pressed harder to deepen the line of an eye socket, or to carefully trace the contour of a cheek bone.  She cleared her throat, “Thicker lines create an illusion of depth and shadow, light and dark.  Slow down your hand and press into the page, until you think it is almost too much.  Roll the charcoal to the side to get a thicker line.  Don’t _shade_. This is all about line today. All right, set up your drawings, we will be working on this still-life for thirty minutes. First fifteen minutes with vine charcoal, last fifteen minutes with compressed charcoal.”  

 

As the students drew, Rey walked quietly behind them, looking at their results.  This was always a tricky bit, as many students hunched and became self-conscious about how their drawings were coming out while the teacher watched them draw.  It was hard to school her face to be neutral--drawings from new students had all the charm and grace of baby birds--gawky and full of potential, but sometimes a bit awkward too.  “It’s all about the process--don’t get hung up on the results,” Rey repeated at intervals.  A meditative calm fell over class as they worked, and she wandered more closely to help students having trouble with the exercise.  

 

She whispered to a student who was hunched very close to her paper, trying to correct her lines over and over.  “Here, back up so you can get a proper look.  Remember to look at the objects, try not to stare at your paper.  Follow your eye with your hand, not the other way around.”  The young woman looked frustrated, and said “I’m trying, but it isn’t coming out right.”  “Here,” said Rey, “place your hand on the paper.”  She put her hand above the hand of her student.  “May I? I’m just going to guide your hand.”  “Sure,” said the student.  Rey said, “Look where I am looking, and feel where I am making my hand go.”  She gently pressed her fingers against the student’s hand, and guided the charcoal down the jaw of the skull.  Rey felt her student’s hand slow down and begin to travel along the contour of what she was observing.  “Oh! I felt that kind of click!”  Rey grinned.  This was the best part of teaching.  “See, you got it! Keep it going.” 

 

The room began to get a little warmer, so Rey opened some windows.  The smell of some flowers drifted into the classroom and little dust motes sparkled in the light of the room.  It was a beautiful day to draw, with her classroom taking on the peaceful air of some old drawing salon.  She made her way over to the other side of the room.  

 

Ben had been struggling in the beginning with his drawings, tending to cramp his subjects into small groups in the middle of a large piece of paper.  His lines had been spiky and hesitant.  This was true of many new students.  The hardest part of teaching drawing was getting students to surrender control and to trust the process.  No technique was ever mastered by trying to start from the desired result and working backward.  Today Ben was showing advancement--his drawing took up most of the piece of paper, Rey was happy to see.  Some of his vine lines were still hesitant though.  She moved to his right side to help direct him.  He startled a little bit to see her in his peripheral vision and he huffed out a surprised breath as he gave a startled twitch to look at her crouched next to him.  A muscle in his jaw jumped.

 

“Sorry,” Rey whispered.  

 

“No, it’s all right, I was just-” he whispered back.  Rey watched him draw for another moment.  Ben was looking at Herbert’s skull, but kept rechecking his drawing, and Rey saw he’d erased several attempts and redrawn his lines.  

 

“The nice thing about vine charcoal is that you don’t have to erase it.  You can just rub away the lines and then build on top of them.” Rey took a cloth from her apron pocket and said, “May I?”  Ben nodded.  She dusted carefully over an area of the drawing that was having some issues.  The lines faded.  “Your drawing is like a map.  You are recording information.  If you need to correct the information, you can see the record of what you observed before.”  Ben nodded, but still looked confused.  

 

Rey could sense his frustration as he placed his hand on the top of his drawing again.  She was being careful to be tactful, she didn’t want him to feel badly about his efforts.  Rey hovered her hand over his.  Ben’s hand froze. 

 

“Is this ok?” Rey said. “I just want to help you.  Sometimes you just need to feel what I am seeing while I’m looking at it.”  She felt bad, she hoped she hadn’t violated his boundaries.  Some people didn’t like to be touched. Rey began to back away.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Ben whispered.  Rey re-approached him and placed her fingers over his larger hand.  She readjusted to be able to guide his movement and to free his wrist.  “Loosen your fingers.  You are gripping the charcoal very tightly.  Imagine it is just an extension of your fingers,” Rey said quietly.  She felt the muscles of his hand shift as he did as she directed.  She looked up at the skull over the pad of Ben’s paper. 

 

“Look where I am looking.  See what I see.”  Rey pressed gently into the side of his hand, feeling the scratch of the charcoal across the paper.  She could sense Ben trying to look at the line being produced.  “Don’t look at your drawing.  Don’t look at your hand.  Just look at the skull.  We are travelling across the surface, following the path of that dome, like it is a hill we are climbing, very slowly.”  Ben reluctantly but obediently lifted his chin to keep his eyes in the direction Rey was looking.  

 

She could sense the exact moment when he released control. Ben’s hunched posture loosened, and his hand felt stronger, but with purpose, not with tension.  The line flowed, an extension of his hand and his wrist as they moved together.  They were coming to a tricky bit where the eye socket began. Rey leaned carefully to help him turn fluidly down the contour’s transition.  “Slowly, slowly,” she hissed.  Now, over the line of the cheekbone.  It was like feeling a boat hit the current of a stream.  “Yes, feel what you are seeing.  Let it direct your movement. Your eye and your hand are one, moving together.”  She could feel him drawing under her hand like they were wired together.  “See, it is working.” 

 

“Yes, I feel it,” whispered Ben.  

 

Rey withdrew her hand with an encouraging press on his fingers. “That’s really excellent. Keep it up. Listen to what I said.” She watched as he tried it without her hand to guide him. Rey rubbed her fingers to loosen them up.  She rose and straightened up.

 

“All right,” Rey announced to her class. “Now let’s move to our compressed charcoal. We are working toward an understanding of light and dark, with dark being the thicker lines, and light being the thinner lines.  Think about density and pressure. Now go. Fifteen minutes.” 

 

At the end of class, her students looked slightly wilted and covered with smudges of inky charcoal.  Rey felt good about their progress. “That was very excellent work today. This week, since I will have your sketchbooks, I would like you to set up your own still-life at home, or look at objects, and use the technique we went over today on the big drawing pads. Remember, the more you do this, the more this gets into your muscle memory. _Practice._ ”  There was a cacophony as students got off their sawhorses and pushed them to the back of the room.   

 

Rey let her students out as she turned off the lights and assembled what she needed to bring to her car.  The large canvas tote bags full of sketchbooks filled her with trepidation, that would be a slog.  She shoved everything outside the door to wait while she locked up.

 

“Do you need a hand to your car?”  Rey jumped.  She hadn’t seen Ben was still there.

 

“Oh! Actually, that would be very helpful,” Rey said briskly, trying to cover up that she’d recoiled when he’d surprised her. There were several students milling around and it was broad daylight out, so she felt comfortable accepting the offer to her car.  Rey smiled.  “Thanks.  Can you grab one of those bags, and I’ll get the other?” 

 

Ben easily lifted up both large bags by their handles.  “I can get both, it’s nothing.” _For you, it isn’t_ , thought Rey.  The heavy bags looked like they barely strained him.  Rey grabbed her drawing board and supply box.  “This is great, thanks.  I wasn’t looking forward to that trek with all of this.” She nodded with her head toward the faculty parking lot, “I’m this way.”  

     

The sun was now beating down, and moisture immediately beaded out on Rey’s forehead. Indian summer was well in swing, and it seemed even warmer than it had in summer.  She picked up her pace to keep up with Ben, who was taking large swinging strides.

 

“I’m here,” Rey said, stopping by her aging beater of a car.  She put down her stuff and looked in her purse for her keys to open the hatchback.

 

“No offense, but that is a dangerous-looking shitbox.”  Rey snapped her head up.  Ben was gazing with a dismayed expression at her car.  

 

“Well, it’s a _paid-for_ dangerous-looking shitbox,” said Rey, defensively. Maybe this had been a mistake. She felt the familiar creeping dread of realizing a student might find just how far out on the margins she lived economically.  Ben seemed to hear the note of wounded pride in her voice and smoothed his expression. 

 

“My student loans are enough debt. I’m happy I own the car outright. I’m working on getting it fixed up,” Rey explained.  

 

“No, that’s good.  You’re right.  I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did. I’m sorry,” said Ben.

 

Rey heaved the back of the car open and Ben placed the heavy tote bags into the hatch.  Rey placed the rest of her belongings in with them.  There was an awkward pause in the atmosphere.  He was in her space and she felt very aware of him all of a sudden, with light brushing on his shoulders.  “Well, that was great,” Rey said.   _Stupid, stupid.  Just say goodbye._

 

“So, I’ll see you next class.  I’m looking forward to seeing what you draw this week.  Good progress today,” Rey chirped, trying to regain her equanimity.  Ben tilted his head, sensing the dismissal.  “Of course.  Thank you for your help today. It really made a difference,” he said.  Rey nodded.  He turned and walked away, and she watched him get smaller and smaller in the distance, before she remembered to get into her car and drive.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from "The Last Summer Day" by Kirsty MacColl: https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/last-day-of-summer/


	5. It was Christmas Eve babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some misogyny and mansplaining in this, I'm not sure it merits a tag update, but just be warned.

Winter 1997—part one

 

Rey was feeling positive about her end of semester critique.  She’d signed up for her favorite gallery space on campus, and had grabbed a good spot in the schedule, right before holiday break, giving her the maximum amount of time to get her work ready to show.

 

Students were randomly assigned a teacher to lead the critique--usually it was someone outside a student’s discipline, in order to foster an interdisciplinary cross-pollination of views. Rey’s painting and drawing teacher would also be present, and the students from that class, so things wouldn’t get too off-track.  Rey hoped she wouldn’t end up with one of the jewelry teachers, who had a tendency to get picky about rendering details.

 

Her work that semester had blossomed. Rey loved her teacher, a motherly yet snarky instructor who was well-known for her feminist paintings.  Professor Mothma had been associated with a woman’s art collective in the 1970s and had no patience for what she called the chest-beating alpha male world of mainstream painters.  Mothma had shown her class a video on the Guerilla Girls—pausing to highlight the dismal art world gender imbalances shown in the graphics.

 

“Do you know that less than 10% of the art in museums is by women?” asked Mothma. “This school is 80% women, and fewer than one out of 10 of you will work as artists.”  The students squirmed—everyone had to believe that they’d be that one. Otherwise, spending tuition at CSD would feel like a sucker’s bet, or simply a very expensive course in self-improvement in a rarified hobby. No one would want to admit that their parents might have had a point about their plans for the future and should have majored in something practical. 

 

Anyway, the feelings created by painting in the huge painting studio at CSD were priceless, Rey reflected.  Her work had become more confident, and she felt like she was really developing a direction in her paintings.  She was focusing on a series of portraits of women scientists and inventors, using her friends as stand-ins for the historical figures, and showing the women with objects representing their field of study, or what they’d invented.

 

Rose was painted as Caroline Herschel, and she portrayed her with a telescope Rey had seen in a science museum in London as a kid.  Ada Lovelace, a seminal figure in the invention of computers, was represented by Jessika.  She portrayed her holding a deck of punchcards like they were a hand of playing cards.  The search for more women, and women from other cultures other than England sent her to the CSD library several times during the semester. 

 

She became a familiar figure in the stacks, trying to run down obscure journals, and look up records.  The Guerilla Girls might have a point—it was really hard to find women in any history, let alone art history. 

 

The gravelly voice of the head librarian, Gaalen Mosswalker, chuckled at her dismay.  “Oh, it gets much worse.”

 

“Why? If a woman did something important to history, something that everyone needs or uses, why wouldn’t history simply reflect that? It’s not like history can be sexist, it’s just history,” said Rey.

 

Gaalen started laughing so hard, she started to cough, and had to duck into her office to get her coffee.  She took a large swig from a mug that said _Male Tears_. “Rey, if a woman did something important, chances are good that even more effort was made to make sure no one knew about it. Biographers will instead give credit to a man in her life, and just write that she was his sweet little helper.” 

 

“But if the writer knows that the woman did it, why would they change the facts?”

 

“The writers are also men.” 

 

“So why don’t women write about the history of women?” asked Rey.

 

“Men also run the publishing world,” answered Gaalen. “Women can write all they want, but it doesn’t mean they get published.”

 

Rey felt defensive. All of the men she knew didn’t seem like they’d be like that.  Sometimes it felt like the older women around her just had biases about men.  Just because they’d had bad experiences, or they hadn’t done as well as men, didn’t mean that all women would have the same experiences. But then when she looked for resources on women artists and women scientists, they were hard to find. People said that was because the women were probably just not as good as the men at art or science, or whatever.  But weren’t things getting better? It felt like women were talked about a lot in the news.  With so many women at CSD, wasn’t that a sign that things could change?

 

“If your work is as good as a man’s, or better, eventually someone is going to notice. They can’t ignore women doing good things forever,” said Rey.

 

“Ok, kid. Get back to me in ten years,” said Gaalen. “Look, here’s a magazine article on Hedy Lamaar.  She was just honored for inventing something for communications that they use in mobile phones.”  Rey wrinkled her nose. Only rich kids had those.  They were so thick and plastic-looking too.  Well, Holdo would probably like posing like Lamarr in a glamor pose, and she could find a picture of a mobile phone.  Maybe she could make it look less ugly.

 

Later that day, when Rey checked her mailbox at school, she saw that her assignment for her critique leader was sitting in an envelope.  She opened it with anticipation.

 

_Hux, Armitage  12-3-1997 Sth. Gallery 1 pm-2 pm_

 

“FUCK.”

 

***

 

Rose tried to make her feel better.  “It’s only an hour right? And he doesn’t actually grade you or pass you for the class, correct? He’s just there to, what’d they say, stimulate discussion? And your teacher will be there, and your classmates too, right?”

 

It was hard to shake the sick hollow feeling, and she wasn’t explaining it very well. Rose had found her hunched miserably over a cup of cold tea at the kitchen table, picking at a piece of dry toast. 

 

It was true though, Rey wouldn’t have to deal with him all day. It was just an hour.  And she’d have her people there with her.  But she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling about having someone like Hux be in charge of talking about her work. 

She’d hoped for someone sympatico, and instead, this was the opposite.

 

The next day Jessika offered to attend her critique as back-up too. “Come on Rey, he’s an asshole, but girl power can take him down. This is our time now. Riot grrrls! Buffy the Vampire Slayer! Dana Scully! You can do this.”

 

Jessika was right, Rey thought. She’d be dealing with guys like this in the art world in the future too, and she’d just have to learn how to stand up for herself and present her ideas.  She just needed to buck the fuck up.

 

Eventually Rey produced eight paintings she was really proud of.  She’d worked in oils, using an impasto method, trying to emulate the look of Baroque paintings, with chiaroscuro backgrounds.  Even the modern subjects translated well into the style.  She hung up her preliminary sketches too, which were sepia washes and watercolors, so people could see her progression in the series.  The South Gallery had the best natural light, and the winter’s day was clear, with the soft and theatrical California winter sunlight. 

 

Mothma gave her a pep talk before the 1 pm critique.  “You’ll do great.  These are great. You know that. I’ll be here.”  The class trickled in and sat around on the floor and Rey looked at them, trying to will positive feelings into them with the power of thought.  They all heard footsteps, and Hux walked in, wearing a long black coat.  He stopped and looked around.  He nodded to Mothma, and then looked at Rey.  Then he looked at her paintings.  He clasped his hands behind his back and then began to look at each one separately, in silence, moving slowly.  Rey felt her deodorant give out, and she swallowed.  _Girl power girl power girl power girl power…_ She glanced over at Jessika in the silence, who nodded firmly and gave her a concealed thumbs-up.

 

“Well,” said Hux.  “This isn’t really my medium. I feel like painting is a dead art form, and it is impossible to say anything new with it.  Can you tell us why you think you should contribute more paintings to a world already full up with too many of them?” 

 

Rey felt her nerves wobble, but saw that he’d offended her classmates, and Mothma looked bored with him, no doubt familiar with his views on their medium.  She tightened her voice so it wouldn’t shake. “I realize that there are a lot of painters, and that it is hard to say new things with painting.  But there are few paintings in which women and their history are the ones telling their story.  Usually when women are the subject, they are there to be pretty, and not for their accomplishments, and—“

 

Hux was holding up his hand.  “Stop right there, I have a feeling your next sentence is going to be all about the male gaze, and I’m familiar with _all of that_.  ‘Women’s art’ is also an oversaturated field.”

 

“I take the liberty to dispute that, Armitage,” Mothma said.  Hux tilted his head in her direction slightly, not willing to directly oppose her, but his skeptical air seemed to say _Of course, you’d say that._

 

“It is important that you find something new to say about all of this,” Hux said, as he gestured to Rey’s paintings.  “Otherwise you are just regurgitating work that is already in the graveyard.  You should consider why you need to use oils, why painting, why not a medium like film or video.  If you don’t answer these questions, your work won’t be rigorous.”  Rey bobbed her head, feeling like a marionette. Hux looked at her expectantly.

 

“Oh, right. So, why painting? Well, it’s a medium where you can build up layers, and you can see history develop in front of you, with the history of your marks. I can erase things, but leave them partially visible, and the viewer gets a sense of information building up over time, which I think goes well with my subject matter, which is also about invention, and history.”  _There_ , thought Rey. Hux actually nodded at that, as if conceding a point.  She relaxed somewhat.

 

“The problem then, as I see, is that you have too much information in the space. You need to pare these down. Why do you need the human figures in them? ‘Person, holding a thing’ is not original,” Hux said. “Eliminate the nonessential figure, and just represent the invention, which is the most important part.  The viewer will be drawn in by an intense focus on one object, with the theatrical lighting.”

 

“You mean,” said Rey, “take out the women.”

 

Hux rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to literally have women in there to represent women.  You don’t ‘take out the women,’ you find another way to let them speak from history, other than just trite portraiture.  That is part of the _maturity_ of your process here. Learning to make work that has impact.”

 

Rey felt like her entire esophagus was made out of sandpaper and tried to generate some moisture under her tongue to speak.  Air was tight too.

 

Thankfully at that moment, Mothma said, “We get a turn to speak too, here, Hux. This is about discussion right, not a lecture?” She turned to her students. “So, what ideas has Hux ‘cross-pollinated’ in you today?” she asked.  Several hands shot up.  Rey didn’t really hear the rest of the discussion, there was a ringing in her head, and she just felt like she wanted to throw up, while keeping a determined and slightly interested expression on her face.  She nodded sagely at intervals.  She blessed her cardigan, which was keeping her armpit stains from showing.  How much longer could this last? It felt like time had oozed to a snail’s crawl. 

 

At last, she heard some applause and realized that Mothma was drawing the hour to a close.  Hux was grinning somewhat tightly, but he nodded to Rey and to the rest of the class, and then left.  Rey’s classmates came up a few at a time and clapped her on the back.  “Don’t listen to him, those new media guys are all arrogant assholes.” “Yeah, they just make a point of shitting on people in any other discipline. The school shouldn’t allow it.”

 

Mothma sailed over. “You did great Rey, your answers to him were great.  Take some time to digest the discussion and we can talk about it next semester. You are always going to have to defend your work, so it is good to just get into the mind-set.”  She left, and all the students except Jessika also drifted out.

   

“Well, that sucked,” said Jessika.  “Let’s go get drunk.” Rey laughed and sobbed at the same time, feeling hot moisture at her eyes.  She fell on her friend and hugged her.  “Oh god, please let’s do.” 

 

“I have a bottle of tequila in my car. I was saving it to sneak home to my parents’ house for the holiday break, but this is an emergency.”  Jessika was a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from “Fairytale of New York” which is by the Pogues, but Kirsty sings the female role in the song.
> 
> (The Guerrilla Girls are a real thing! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxBQB2fUl_g They are still quite relevant, check it out if you like feminist culture jamming.)
> 
> I'm posting another two chapters--I wrote them in two chapter blocks and I'm finding they feel lonely when I just post one alone. I might go back down to one a week, depending on how things feel later on, but for now I hope you enjoy. Thank you everyone for comments and kudos. :) I'm amazed this thing has gotten so far, and I appreciate anyone following this meandering tale. Cheers!


	6. She’s finding doubt is replacing all her dreams

Fall 2007 part one

 

 

Rey lugged the bags of sketchbooks into the apartment and into her bedroom.  She switched on her desk lamp, and piled stacks of them on the space she had cleared for them earlier before class.  Her weekend was going to be full and she sighed.  There were rarely any gems in the rough in student sketchbooks, but she needed to honor the commitment her students put into the process by making sure everyone felt visible, and that their efforts were appreciated.  That meant looking at every sketchbook and viewing each page.

 

Rey had taken advantage of her relatively flush circumstances of a regular paycheck by laying in provisions for the weekend.  It was such a joy to be able to get not just one, but two kinds of cheese, including a fancy one from the deli section. There was a loaf of crusty bread, a bag of Macintosh apples, and some pepper crackers.  “Grading chow!” Rose had chuckled.  Rey had also picked up a couple of bottles of red wine. 

 

Sorting the sketchbooks was an hour’s work.  The students who had obviously not put in the requisite amount of work were moved to the top of the pile, to be dispatched quickly.  Sketchbooks that had many pages filled but were submitted by students that were struggling were moved to the next pile.  These would occupy most of Rey’s time, providing comments to encourage more work and to highlight places where there was improvement.  Another smaller pile was made of students who were further along, did a lot of work, and would prove to have interesting entries. 

 

Work done for the day, Rey got out her clothes for her other job the next day.  Working a part-time office job at San Junipero State two days a week was a challenge when she also had a class to teach, since it required a shift in wardrobe and in mental focus.  Friday through Sunday would be a straight slog through grading. 

 

Rose and Finn had invited Poe over for dinner on Sunday, a semi-regular tradition, and it would be a pleasure to have some social time.  Since moving away from Niima city center and into the exurbs, it was harder to connect with old friends.  The anonymous apartment on the outskirts of town was more affordable for them all, since rents in the now more desirable and trendy industrial area had shot up, while wages had certainly not.  If Rey didn’t have Rose and Finn to split expenses with, she wouldn’t even be able to afford to live on the outskirts.  She and Rose had been priced out of their sweet college apartment several years ago, and when Finn and Rose invited her to live with them to split costs, she’d jumped at the chance. Otherwise she didn’t know how or where she’d be living now.

 

However, she still dreamed of being able to afford a space of her own, to paint and draw her own work again.  Daydreams of the vast spaces of her former studios at school formed the bulk of her make-believe life.  Rey pictured herself in front of a large wall, covered in a blank canvas.  With her music blaring, she would flex her arm—she would sing to herself, with no one to watch her, while she unleashed large and sweeping strokes against an endless space, full of possibility.  Some day.  Things couldn’t stay like this forever.  She’d find a way.

 

Rose and Finn were late to arrive home again.  Rose worked at a local aerospace company, working her way up the ranks in engineering.  “I want to work on space-ships.  If I have to design a light switch for the Space Shuttle in order to live that dream, so be it.”     

 

Finn had a job at a graphic design house, working on websites for local businesses, while trying to develop his portfolio.  He was talking about going back to grad school, unsatisfied with the pool of job connections he was trying to work with.  Freelance seemed dicey, but with a better network, it could be doable.  Rose was reluctant to move away from Southern California, since geographically it was a location with a concentration of work in her industry.  It was a major topic of discussion in Rose and Finn’s relationship and its future. 

 

After three years as a part-time college instructor, Rey had mostly relinquished ambitions to move very much further up the ladder as a teacher.  Academia had long abandoned any commitment to nurturing tenure-track positions, especially in the arts and humanities, and full-time positions in desirable schools were rare.  She was lucky enough to be working and teaching in her field.  For the first year or two out of school, she had haunted job sites, looking for full-time positions.  She also entered as many art shows as she could, to try to keep up her exhibition record, to make her more employable as an art professor.  She’d applied to the part-timer pool at Niima Community College as a stop-gap, not really considering that a serious avenue to pursue as an artist and teacher. 

 

A year of working retail after she’d received her Master’s degree had made the prospect of teaching at a local community college as a drawing teacher seem like winning the lottery, and she nearly cried with relief the day she got an email asking her to come in for an interview.  Rey flew through the process and looked forward to a life more on track with her expectations.  She was surprised however, that a teaching job at the college level paid so little, didn’t come with benefits, paid days off, or any job security from semester to semester.  However, things were looking up, and this would do for now, she rationalized at the time. 

 

Connections at Niima Community College had landed her the clerical job at SJSC, which was at least year-round, even though that was also part-time; so it also didn’t include health benefits, or any other real benefits either.  However, it was enough to pay rent, to put gas in the car, and not have to move out of state to an even cheaper location, away from the few friends she had left living in the area. 

 

The circle of friends she’d had in college had slowly drifted apart, despite making the effort to keep the community together.  Sure, Finn, Rose, and Poe were still around.  But the core of their relationships had shifted in the effort to stay treading water with jobs and life.  The Oxford Commas had their rent increased on their warehouse space, had tried to maintain a rehearsal schedule in borrowed spaces, but most of the local show venues also had their rent increased, and the scene that supported bands like theirs faded.  Holdo was working in her field of early child development, also at Niima Community College, and so Rey did get to see her when their schedules allowed.  Jessika, Pammich, and Kaydel, Rey saw more rarely after college ended, and hadn’t spoken much to any of them in the last couple of years. 

 

Turning 30 years old, with very little to show for it, had been daunting.  Rey had lucked into one major awards show that featured her in a regionally respected three-person exhibition.  She’d allowed herself to feel some optimism about that, they’d gotten some press, and her friends had turned up for the opening of the show, and it felt somewhat like old times, and perhaps the start of something new.  A semester after that with no teaching assignment had been sobering however and taught her to manage her expectations. 

 

Full-time teachers would retire in the area, and many part-timers would buzz with the anticipation of hope, speculating on who would apply for the open position.  However, many schools simply divvied up the teaching responsibilities remaining from the position among two or three part-time teachers, and never opened up that full-time position ever again, no doubt cheered by the savings. 

 

Anyone who was grateful enough to have any kind of teaching position knew better than to complain too much. 

 

The worst part of being a part-time college teacher, however, was the isolation.  Rey generally never saw anyone except her students, or the occasional staff member if she had an issue.  There was no real overlap in part-timer classes, and no offices or spaces for them to congregate.  Teachers like herself and her colleagues were expected to simply arrive, teach, and leave.  If they had to meet with students, they were expected to find their own space in which to meet, and to do it outside class-time, unpaid.  No faculty teas, no department meetings, no group shows arranged, showcasing their talents.  Your co-workers were names on boxes in the faculty mailroom, and if you were lucky, you might run into a human in there. 

 

It was a long way from Rey’s ideals of academic life, with tweed jackets and elbow patches.  Life took on a pinched kind of austerity, which made it hard to connect to the emotions needed to make art.  The idea of the starving artist still had romantic currency with society, but the reality was much grimmer.  Standing in line at the community food pantry while hoping you didn’t run into one of your students was not exactly the fodder of 19th century garret porn.  Inspiration was an afterthought. 

 

At 7 pm, Finn arrived home, and Rose showed up not much later.  All three friends managed to eat some dinner, watch a few shows, and then everyone retired to get to bed.  The sound of sprinklers on the strips of turf outside lulled Rey to sleep at last, and the world outside seemed silent and abandoned, with no other sign of life stirring. 

 

***

 

Friday night arrived at last, and Rey faced her stacks of sketchbooks.  Her desk was a 1960’s tank desk she’d dragged with nostalgia from her previous living quarters, and she’d found a vintage office lamp to light it up.  She had her own art and some postcards pinned up over the desk, and this area was her sole creative work-space.  It doubled as her grading space, as she needed to be away from the common areas of the apartment to get into a good mental state for intense evaluation. 

 

The slackers were dispensed with quickly. Those students with only a couple of scratchy drawings in their sketchbooks were reminded that sketchbooks were 50% of their grade, and that one or two patchy entries were not going to cut it.  Rey filled out notes to that effect, and placed them inside the covers of these sketchbooks, where they would no doubt go unread. 

 

Sloggers she took her time with.  She had arranged these sketchbooks in alphabetical order, and she carefully worked her way through them.  Rey had assigned her students thirty minutes a day to draw in their sketchbooks but had left the subject matter more or less open, sometimes directing them to draw objects, sometimes to draw people, or sometimes just blind contour drawings of nature.  Rey also tried to keep up with her own sketchbook with the same level of work, in sympathy.  It was hard to assign work to others if you were not willing to do it yourself.  Some weeks she succeeded. 

 

Rey worked steadily from Friday evening to late Saturday night, making her way through the alphabet.  She filled in slips of paper with comments about her students’ work, and inserted them in the pages, writing until her eyes felt gritty. At around midnight, she picked up a sketchbook and saw that it was Ben Solo’s.  He was using a Moleskine pad, with his name written in neat block letters on the inside.  Rey thought his writing looked like it was like an architect’s.  She expected his choice of subject to be kind of remote, and full of attempts of technical mastery.  Rey turned to the first pages, anticipating seeing drawings of buildings, cars, or tools. 

 

Indeed, the first pages were full of dutiful drawings created with techniques she’d discussed in class, with studies of hands, sticks, household objects.  Further in, there were drawings of masks from several cultures, and also some surreal- looking artifacts.  Rey could see Ben struggling to open up his drawings, and to conquer his hesitancy and to experiment.

 

Turning the page, she felt her eyeballs go dry and her cheeks went numb. Rey had to look again to check to see what she thought she had seen. 

 

It was a drawing of a headless torso.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song “Queen of the High Teas”  
> https://www.last.fm/music/Kirsty+MacColl/_/Queen+of+the+High+Teas


	7. If I wore your shades could I share your point of view?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented, or left a kudo on this this week. I was very touched! I struggled with deciding to write such a long piece with such a long runway, and I appreciate anyone gifting this with their time and attention.

Fall 2007 part two

 

Heart racing, Rey slowly turned the pages.  On the next page, there was a drawing of a man, laying back, as if against a pillow. An arm was pressed against his chest: it looked bound.  She looked closer.  Part of an arm, not the whole arm. The bandages ended in a raw-looking stump.

 

The next page was a close-up of the same man’s face.  Some of the proportions were shaky, but the lines captured a sense of weariness, and the man’s hollow expression. 

 

On the next page was another man, sitting in a chair, with an arm extended on the arm of the chair.  There was a tube sketched in, looking attached to the arm, suggesting some medical procedure.  This man’s face bore signs that the man had had something tear part of it away—there were bandages, and his cheek was caved in, eye missing, and socket drooping.  

 

There was writing in the lower right-hand corner of the page.

 

_Niima Veteran’s Hospital 10-3-2007_

Rey blew out her breath, not aware she’d been holding it in. 

 

She turned back to the first drawing, of the torso, and looked more closely.  It wasn’t really headless, it was just that the artist had chosen to end the drawing at the neck.  A long scar tore from the collarbone and down toward the side of the ribs, looking healed, but showing suggestion of a deep scoring by a weapon or something.  On the opposite shoulder was a round and puckered wound, evidence of a large puncture.

 

The arms were also lined with smaller slender scars, looking like small snakes winding themselves around the man’s biceps.  There was no writing on this page.  Rey realized that she was looking at an image that had been drawn in a mirror.  She felt like the air was sucked out of her lungs.

 

With a shock, Rey realized that it was nearly 1 am.  She carefully closed the Ben’s sketchbook and placed it back on her desk, and then switched off the desk lamp.  She sat for another moment, and then moved to prepare for bed.

 

_She rises from her knees, hearing the sounds of waves crashing in a cave.  She thinks she hears voices, and she flies off again toward the sound._

_Peering down the cliff, she sees the opening to the cave, halfway down the cliff-side, inaccessible by any means other than flight.  She banks toward the mouth of the cave, hesitating in a meditative holding pattern over the water.  Her wings beat, and then she dives into the entrance._

_The sound of voices seems to fade—was it just the murmur of the waves against the cave walls after all?_

_As she prepares to land, she sees signs of a banked fire.  Next to the ashes, there is a knife.  She cries out a greeting in her bird-tongue.  It echoes in the chamber, mixed with the rhythmic splashing of the tides.  She listens for an answer, straining for any sound of a noise, human or animal.  She picks up the knife._

_The cave seems to extend into a tunnel.  She turns to go further into the cave, and then startles awake._

 

Rey spent Sunday feeling unsettled by Ben Solo’s drawings.  She made it through the rest of her sketchbook checks, but with his sketchbook put aside.  It felt wrong to simply put a note in that essentially said, “Nice work, keep going in that direction.” Not for this. 

The problem stayed with her until it was time to prepare for dinner with Poe and her roommates for Sunday supper.  Rose and Finn had hit a farmers’ market for autumn vegetables, including a huge turban squash, currently sitting majestically on the kitchen counter.  Rey was delighted and used some her self-assigned drawing time to capture it from a few angles, and even managed to get in a watercolor of it. 

 

“You seem pensive, kiddo,” said Poe. 

 

“Who says ‘pensive’ anymore?” asked Rey. 

 

“Only the best people,” said Poe.

 

“There is something, but I’ll tell you after dinner.  Actually, you could be very helpful.”  Like Rey, Poe was also a part-time instructor, in a different part of Niima’s art department, teaching a video course with a cultural component.  He supplemented his income with his old job as a cook.

 

However, Poe’s devotion to political and social causes hadn’t dimmed after he’d finished school.  He worked in gay rights, worker rights, immigrant rights, and the peace effort, even if it seemed everyone else had gone numb to the conflict in wartime.  If anything, the effects of the long Iraq and Afghan wars had sharpened his commitment, and Rey was vaguely aware that he was involved in some kind of anti-war organization.  He’d brought over flyers for marches and campus rallies for the various issues he was committed to.  He’d tried to get Rey interested. 

 

“You’re a product of a genuinely terrible childhood. Didn’t you grow up in working-class England? Thatcher, the empire? Is this ringing any bells?” Poe seemed to think that her background experiences would be valuable to what he was working on, but Rey’s constant battle to find some way to make a living made it hard to think about. 

 

And back when she’d been a child, staying alive for just one more day had reduced all of her motivations to that one objective. 

 

***

 

Poe had whipped up a wonderful dinner with the squash, drizzling it with butter and maple syrup and a pinch of chili flakes.  There were also chicken thighs that he’d done something miraculous with, and a spinach salad with strawberries and vinaigrette. Rey had contributed one of her bottles of wine, and Finn had brought home another.  Rose had been in charge of cutting things for Poe, she was the only one he trusted to julienne for his cooking.  “Finn will just cut off, er, his finger,” said Poe.  It was an old joke with them.  Rey’s cooking skills didn’t extend much beyond cheese toast, so she was in charge of the washing up. 

 

Still, there was time to linger over wine after the meal.  Rey said, “So, there was something yesterday.  A student of mine—“

 

“Someone bothering you?” asked Finn.  Poe and Rose also looked concerned. 

 

“No. I mean, not like that,” said Rey.  “I have a student, he’s former military. I think, from what I sense, that he was in the war. Anyway, that isn’t a problem. But I was checking sketchbooks, and he had some drawings in there that were really—intense.” 

 

“Like disturbed?” asked Rose.

 

“Well, disturbing. Drawings of soldiers I think. With very bad injuries.” 

 

Poe looked serious.  Rey continued, “Well, it’s not that he shouldn’t draw them. I mean, that’s fine. Good actually, and they were pretty good drawings for a beginner. It’s just, I feel kind of ignorant for one—about the war, I mean.  And because of that, I feel like anything I say about his work will just be—inadequate. Or insensitive. I guess that’s the problem.” 

 

“Well, wearing my teacher hat, I’d say, yes, you are right to want to be sensitive.  Let me think about that a minute.  The other thing,” Poe blew out his breath.  “Lots of feelings. What do you know about the effects of the war on the guys coming back?” 

 

“Really not much,” said Rey.  “I’m not even sure why there is a war.”  

 

Finn said, “Oh boy, here we go.”  Poe shook his head at him, “You know, it isn’t a contradiction to be artistic and also be informed about world events.” “It isn’t that,” said Finn, “it’s just that you’re always so—“  “So much about them,” finished Rose.  Poe rolled his eyes, as if to ask heaven for patience.  “When did you two begin ending each other’s sentences? Never mind.”

 

“Anyway, long story short, we are over there for our own effort to build an empire in the Middle east.  Your people in England helped destabilize the area for oil back in the day, and now we are carrying on, like we’re a kid taking on dear old dad’s company business. They call it freedom and democracy or the war on terror, or whatever, but that’s the scoop.  Oil is a limited and valuable resource, and we wanted access to it. There’s a lot more to it, but you can look that all up.”

 

“So, we’ve been there for a very long time, it’s the longest war in our history, and this has been tough on the guys serving, to say the least. It’s starting to come out that there is a very very high rate of suicide, with these returning soldiers. They keep sending them back, the operations over there are traumatic, they come back, things aren’t so hot here. And if it isn’t suicide, it’s PTSD, there are things ripping families apart. It’s bad.” 

 

“Then there are the injuries,” said Poe. Then he stopped. “It sounds like your guy knows some guys who have seen some shit.” 

 

“He may have been someone who also saw some shit,” said Rey. Poe raised his eyebrows.  Rey didn’t want to reveal all of her student’s personal details—the sketchbooks weren’t like medical records or anything, but she assumed that her students didn’t expect her to show them to the world while she had them. But this wasn’t just sad poetry and timid moody self-portraiture here.

 

“With your work with the activists, do you meet soldiers? Do they support you, or do they get mad because you are against the war?” asked Rey. 

 

“The organization is mainly Irag vets, they are also against the war. Some guys who are gung-ho about America and freedom fries, they can get pissed. They think what we do spits on the sacrifices they made.  We aren’t against the soldiers though—they don’t start the wars,” said Poe. “We just try to show them that the people in power don’t always have their best interests at heart. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they already know that, but it is a long war. You don’t get into something like that without feeling invested. Cracks of doubt can make it feel like you lost everything for nothing.”

 

Rey said, “So there are some wounds inside, and then there are the wounds outside.” 

 

“Right,” said Poe. 

 

“I’m not sure what my student feels about all of that. I just notice that sometimes he’s a little jumpy in class. And then there was this,” said Rey.  “But that was very helpful.” 

 

Poe said, “Sure. Next month I can bring you some stuff to read. Now, as far as being his teacher, and what you do now—I’d thank him for sharing something personal and serious.  Tell him where the drawings are good, where he needs to improve. Maybe give him some ideas for how he could develop the theme.”

 

“That’s good,” said Rey, “we have portfolios and a student exhibition coming up. Maybe he’d do something for the show.” 

 

“Thanks for the history lesson, Poe,” said Finn. “Now, who has room for dessert?”

 

After the washing up, and after saying goodbye to Poe until next month, Rey went back to her room to finish with the one last sketchbook.  Finn and Rose were curled up on the sofa, watching a show.  She wanted to give them some space.

 

Also, she wanted some quiet to look again at Ben’s drawings, now mindful of the kind of experiences that had caused them to exist.  She supposed that such young men would not want a person to feel sorry for them, but just want their stories told. Perhaps having another soldier like Ben show what life was like was more meaningful than if someone like Rey was to try.

 

Rey took out one of her slips of paper and began to write her response for Ben’s drawings.

 

_“Ben, these are remarkable drawings, even just as sketches.  Thank you for sharing such personal subject matter in your work, they are very moving. You have conveyed a great sense of emotion with these.  Your earlier work on the household objects are also very good, they show you moving up in level with your technique.  You can use some of the techniques we are learning with contour drawing to give the subjects a more fluid line, which will make your drawings seem more confident._

_Our class will be doing portfolio checks in six weeks, I hope you will consider doing some more of the portraits of the vets in a larger and more developed format.  Also, our student show is the last week of class. If you are willing, and you do decide to do more of these drawings, perhaps you’d consider entering them. Just a thought. Rey.”_

 

She slipped the piece of paper into the leaves of the sketchbook and then placed the sketchbook into her tote-bags waiting to be loaded up for class tomorrow. 

 

***

_Her path takes her down down and down.  Does she imagine cries of distress, cries of beckoning? The whole of the ocean seems to call her name in the waves._

_She could no more refuse this path than she could refuse to fly._

_At last she comes to a large room, with a pool.  On the shore of the pool, there is a selkie._

_‘Were you calling me?’ she asks?_

_‘Is there anyone else here?’ it asks._

_‘No,’ she answers._

_‘Do you have the knife?” the creature inquires. She looks down. She still has the knife in her hand._

_‘Yes, but—‘_

_‘Never mind that. Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.’_

_She walks slowly toward the lumpish selkie._

_‘You must remove my skin.  Take the knife and saw into my chest. Peel off this skin.’_

_‘Are you under a spell, creature?’_

_‘Take away this skin and see’_

_She hesitates, but then drives the point of the knife into the neck of the creature, and saws away.  She cuts and cuts, trying to sever the skin. The creature sighs and groans, in pleasure and in pain._

_At last she draws her cut to the end of the selkie’s tail. ‘Ah, here it is’_

_The skin falls away, and there is a puff of smoke that clouds her vision.  She is left holding a moist skin, that flops limply in her hand._

_When the smoke clears, before her is a young man.  His hair is as black as coal, and his eyes are amber. He wears a black robe._

_He shakes himself, and she sees that he also shakes free a pair of wings._

_‘You also have wings’ she says in awe. ‘I thought I was the only one’_

_‘I can fly for one day,’ he says. ‘Tonight, the skin of the selkie will wrap me up me again, but you have freed me for one day’_

_‘You must not lose the selkie’s skin, for when I return, if it is not here for me, I will die’_

_‘But I want to fly with you. I can show you the ways of the ocean.’_

_‘I will tell you where to hide the selkie’s skin, and the knife. And then we can fly together over the ocean.’_

_He shows her where to conceal the hide of the selkie, and the knife._

_He takes her hand and unfurls his wings._

_‘It has been many years since I have flown,’ he says._

_‘I’ll help you’ she says._

 

***

 

“All right, here are your sketchbooks back. For some of you, there is good news, and for some of you, there is not so good news. Remember, this is a large part of your grade. I will be collecting these again in two weeks, so there is room for improvement if the news was not so good this time,” Rey announced the next day in class.  Monday was always the best day to deliver hard news, or to start off someone’s week really well. Better to just get things all over with.

 

“Please put your drawings assigned from last week up on the boards, and we will look at them and critique them today. After you have done that, you may come up here and collect your sketchbook.”  There was a pleasant chaos for a few moments as students ripped drawings out of their large drawing pads and then jockeyed for space around the walls to place their work.  Rey flitted around the room, helping students and supplying push pins, straightening drawings and making encouraging sounds. Students milled around her table and retrieved their sketchbooks and she dodged and weaved as best as she could in the crowded space.

 

Finally, students were getting settled on their sawhorses with their drawings up—several students were opening their sketchbooks while they waited for the others to finish up hanging their work.  She attempted to look around discreetly at her students’ reactions.  Some just shoved their books into their bags, with a mental shrug. Some were paging through and looking at her comments. 

 

“Now, let’s not take up anymore class time on your sketchbooks today. We need to look at several drawings. So put them away for now and if you have questions about your grade, you can email me, or see me after class.”  Still, curious, Rey glanced over at Ben. He was absorbed in reading her slip, and it looked as if the tips of his ears were slightly reddish.

 

Then a corner of his mouth lifted up just a bit, and he closed the sketchbook and carefully put it away as Rey had asked.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a lyric from the song “Free World” https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/free-world/
> 
> A selkie is a shapeshifter and usually transforms into the form of a seal. They are more commonly female in folklore, but I like the gender-role swapping from TLJ where the heroine is the one who helps deliver the hero from peril. 
> 
> I'm only posting one chapter this week because this one and the next one are kind of crunchy, and I wanted to let this one marinate before dropping the other one. I hope finding out that the headless torso in the sketchbook wasn't from a gruesome murder makes up for that somewhat. (Our boy has some issues, but he isn't a serial killer. Whew.)


	8. Miss Otis Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where this work starts to earn its warning tag about Hux, so if bad situations of dubious consent and misogyny are triggering, you might want to skip. There's nothing graphic but it could be unpleasant. 
> 
> I'll put a summary in the end notes. And I'm posting two chapters today because the next one is much nicer and we all deserve a reward.

Winter 1997 part two

 _Tequila is magic_ , thought Rey.

Jessika and Rey were holed up in the sculpture yard behind the ceramics building, where they generally turned a blind eye to on-campus alcohol consumption, even by the under-aged. The elderly sculpture art history teacher held an event during finals where everyone would bring booze and try to get as drunk as possible before noon, while he smoked his illicit and forbidden cigarettes indoors, an angelic smile ringing his face. The administration found it difficult to get officially pissed at a man who had personally known Gertrude Stein. Students loved him.

Jessika had snagged some Dixie cups from the on-campus café, and they were doing shots while sitting on a bench, looking at the very odd objects that littered the grassy hill out behind the building.

_“It’s an octopus fucking a teddy bear.”_

_“That’s a guy that just lost his entire vinyl collection in a fire his mother started.”_

_“Oh shit, I think it is actually Hux.”_

Both girls collapsed into giggles.

_“He would have all his music on vinyl. Like a secret vice.”_

_“Digital in the streets, analog in the sheets.”_

_“Oh, god, we are so drunk.”_

_“We should get food.”_

“Food. Would be good. Actually.” First, though, they had another shot.

Jessika and Rey wandered like hippies freshly come to the Summer of Love, down the streets of downtown Niima. Jessika had the bottle stashed in her tote-bag, ready to hand for any adventures the two heroines might encounter. The air was chilly, but fresh and crisp, and everything smelled slightly better in their heightened senses. The sun was just starting to drift to the horizon, and it seemed like magic hour.

The bruising hour with her critique seemed like a distant memory to Rey. She felt as remote as an empress about it now. It was a silly ritual, with a silly man, who was just a small and jealous idiot. His opinion didn’t matter any more than anyone else’s, in the grand plan of the universe. He wasn’t the final judge of truth and beauty. She’d ignore everything he said, just on general principle.

There, that was settled.

Rey felt famished. She hadn’t been able to eat much before her critique, and now she felt like she could eat a table-full of food. Perhaps tequila on an empty stomach hadn’t been the best plan.

“Oh, look! The Raddus!” It was a very popular brewpub with CSD students and had cheap and filling food. “Oh man, I really want chili fries right now,” said Jessika. Rey salivated thinking of their fish and chips. They strode in, struggling to seem in control, while quietly convulsed in laughter. They slid carefully into a booth with high wooden pews and peered at the menus. The server came by. “Water? Need more time?”

“Yes, and no.” They got cups of water, so they could continue to pour shots, and ordered their food. Rey passed her glass under the table, and Jessika poured more Patron into it. “Pace yourself.”

Their food arrived, and Rey dived in. It was the most heavenly thing she’d ever tasted; the crunch was perfect, and the burst of grease were succulent. “How is. Yours?” Jessika nodded with a blissful expression. “This is like food nirvana. These chili fries have brought me enlightenment.”

A Tom Waits song came blaring over the pub speaker system. She loved this song. Rey felt a cosmic sense that this pub, this day, this moment with Jessika, was a moment that would live forever. The significance of everything bounced through her bones, and she felt spiritual. Even her fish and chips took on a deep implication. This all meant something. Rey closed her eyes. She just had to crack the code. Then she’d be on a new and higher plane of existence. “A cheetah coat fills up with steam, she's such a scream.”

She opened her eyes again, and Armitage Hux was standing in front of their table, looking at Rey.

“May I join you ladies?” he asked, and then slid into the booth next to Rey. Jessika’s eyes widened. Rey shrugged. This day could not get even more stuffed full of strange connections. Who knew what fate meant by this?

Rey felt Old Rey slink to a place backstage. New Rey, cosmic Rey, gave an airy wave. “Of course, join us.”

As it turned out, the Raddus was a favorite of CSD grad students, who liked it for carding underclassmen and generally keeping out young riff-raff in the evening hours. Rey and Jessika had only ever had the occasional lunch there, which was why they’d never realized that the older crowd took it over for happy hour.

Hux was sipping on a serious-looking cocktail and waved the server over. “I’ll have my food here,” he said. She nodded and went away to redirect his order.

“I hope I wasn’t too hard on you today,” Hux said. Rey considered his words from her chemically-induced regal mental perch and said, “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“The harder I am on you, the more I consider you serious. A teacher has to tear you down to bedrock in order to build you up again.”

Rey nodded sagely. It felt like it made a kind of sense, although it also made her vaguely uneasy. She pushed that feeling down to a place she could ignore it.

Jessika looked at him a little sharply. “Maybe not everyone benefits from that approach?” She looked at Rey and seemed to be signaling with her eyebrows. Rey couldn’t decipher that, so she signaled back with a similar gesture, in irony.

Hux’s food arrived, a club sandwich. He took up a triangle and fussily nibbled at the bacon and lettuce sticking out of the bread in order to get it out of his way for a larger bite. He chewed while appearing to think of what to say to that.

“Why would you come here so we could hold your hand?” asked Hux. “The point of coming to art school is to refine your practice to the most honed state. Pare away all of the impurities and leave the perfect. If you want to sit around and sing ‘Kumbaya’ about your art, go to State.” He had the contented look of someone who had made an irrefutable point.

He gestured to his fries, “Help yourself if you’d like.” Rey took one and shook some salt over it. She looked down and realized she still had some of her own fries on her own plate. That was awkward.

Rey said, “Don’t you think that some groups, like women, already get enough harsh criticism from society?”

“You think I should go easier on students because they are women? That seems like the real sexism,” answered Hux. “If I didn’t think a woman could take criticism, that would seem like I didn’t respect her enough to listen to the same criticism I would give to a man.”

“Serious art was historically made by men. Women who achieved success in the art world did it by creating work the same quality as men,” Hux continued.

Rey wrinkled her nose. While this seemed true on its face, she couldn’t help thinking about her talks with Gaalen.

“What about women who never got recognition, even though their work was as good as men?” asked Rey. “Like women painters we are just hearing about now, like Gentileschi?”

Hux sighed. “The fact that you have heard of her goes rather against your original point. If you know who she is, then she got recognition.” Rey noticed that he left all of his crusts, having chewed the rest of the club sandwich quarters down to nubs. The server came by and slapped down the bill.

“If your work is high quality, the system will work, regardless if you are a man or a woman. There are lots of men who never get recognition either, and they don’t whine about sexism,” said Hux. “Use that energy to make excellent work instead of sidelining yourself into ‘feminist art,’--no one needs another artist who takes off her clothes, throws meat, and complains about the male gaze.”

“Well, this has been fun,” said Jessika. “Should we pay and get going?” She gestured to the bill. Hux grabbed it and said, “I’ll get this one.” “Um? Ok.” said Rey. “Uh, thank you.” Jessika seemed unsettled, but didn’t argue, but just nodded thanks. “We’ll get you next time, ok?”

After paying, all three stood outside the Raddus. The two girls discussed the bus schedule and found the next bus wouldn’t be by for another 30 minutes. Hux rolled his eyes. “Children. I’ll take you home. I have a car, like an adult.”

Rey said, “Well, we don’t live in the same place. You’d have to make two trips. That seems like a lot to ask.” Jessika shot her a puzzled glance that said Why is he being so nice? Rey had no answer. Maybe he wasn’t really that big of an ogre when he was away from a large audience.

Hux guided them to his car, a black BMW. Rey tried to keep a straight face. The tequila that had been percolating in her brain seemed to be rocketing around her nervous system now, and she felt both alert and a little worn out. It seemed unfair to remark on Hux’s choice of yuppie car when he’d gotten their food and was giving them a ride. Maybe it was his dad’s. Rey was aware of a slight gonging sensation in her mind, and she tried to recapture the sensation of total enlightenment she’d been floating on earlier. She got into the back seat, and Jessika got into the front seat.

“Jessika, I’ll drop you first,” said Hux.

That was the last thing Rey remembered before she woke up with her eyes still closed the next morning. The sun was streaming into her eyelids from a strange angle in the room, and the sheets felt unusual. Rey remembered the drinking and groaned, feeling twin rockets of pain shooting through her eyelids. She had a raging need to pee that was almost crippling. A wave of nausea blew through her chest and stomach, and she already knew it was going to be a bad day.

 _Tequila is evil_ , she thought.

Right, better work on opening those eyes and figuring out which problem to take care of first.

Rey heard a strange scratching noise right next to the pillow. She opened her eyes.

Looking back at her was a curious ferret, paws grasping the wires of a cage. It sniffed.

What in fuck?

“Oh, you’re awake now. I see you’ve met Snoke,” said Hux.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Kirsty McColl cover of "Miss Otis Regrets" This video is my favorite version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4sZUfQ97po and if you ever have a day when you want to think over bad old loves, grudges, and regrets, it really hits the spot.
> 
> Summary: Rey gets drunk, ends up going home with Hux. Something happens for her to end up waking the next day at his house hungover, it is unclear at this time what transpired.


	9. Your innocence has passed you by a long long time ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy it.

 

Early November 2007 part one

 

A few weeks later, Rey passed out the forms to her class for their portfolio review.  Since she didn’t have an office, she made a virtue out of the lack of one, and let her students pick a place on campus to meet with her to discuss their portfolios. It made for a nice little ritual, and she enjoyed seeing where students felt the most inspired. 

 

“It can be anywhere, inside, outside. Just make it some place where we can sit down and look at your work,” said Rey.  Many students simply elected to meet in the campus café, but sometimes she’d be surprised.  

 

Doing these appointments took up a great deal of time outside of class—she could generally get through about four of them per day she was on campus, after class.  And since traffic was deadly at around 5 pm when she was done, she generally lingered for an hour or two downtown, until things cleared up enough for her to drive home.  Sometimes she met Holdo for coffee and they got a chance to catch up.

 

“How is it going, girl?” Holdo still dressed like a slightly punk Mary Poppins, her hair remaining purple, but a bit more faded.  Rey felt her heart give a squeeze of affection at seeing her.

 

“Oh, you know. Still single, dead-end jobs, living like a child. Life is really looking up,” said Rey.

 

Holdo sighed into her coffee cup.  She’d tried to hook Rey up with a succession of artistic eligible bachelors over the years. Some Rey had actually taken seriously enough to date for a while, but things never seemed to gel. Artists dating artists could get competitive—one swain had actually dumped Rey a week after a visitor to his studio had praised some paintings she’d had stored over at his place.  She’d stayed in bed for a week, listening to Kirsty MacColl songs and thinking uncharitable thoughts about men. 

 

“Maybe you need to manage your expectations,” said Holdo.  “You put too much of your heart into these things. Just find someone you can have fun with, and don’t get so hung up.” 

 

“I know,” said Rey.  She did take these things too seriously.  Being an orphan, she wasn’t really sure what the baseline was for a normal level of intensity.  Looking for a person to fill all the parent-sized holes in her life was self-defeating. Rey had dated a few older men, chasing the futile need for a lover and a mentor.  That was also disappointing.

 

It was also just difficult to meet other adults. Students were off-limits, dating other teachers was grim—not only were part-timer schedules mostly incompatible, there was the whole thing about competition again.  Chasing resources in the same limited pool of job and show opportunities put a strain on love. 

 

Rey would go shopping at her co-op and would gaze into her cart. Single portions of the cheapest foods, to be eaten alone. A line from T.S. Eliot would echo through her brain, _I have measured out my life with coffee spoons._

 

_And cheese toast._

 

“So, how is your work going? Looking forward to winter break?” Rey asked. 

 

Holdo shot her a look. “Things are ok for now. I’ve heard some cuts are coming though. Have you heard anything about that?” 

 

Rey shook her head. “No, why?”

 

“Just some rumors. Also, I was talking to Poe the other day, and he said the economy isn’t doing that great actually. College budgets could get tight.”

 

“You know Poe, everything is a crisis.”

 

“True,” said Holdo. “How are Finn and Rose?”

 

“Great,” said Rey. “I think Finn is trying to get into a grad program. Rose wants to leave the planet. It’s a match made in heaven.” 

 

Holdo chuckled.  “Rose doesn’t really want to leave the planet, I think she just wants to get into space before the bad people do, and ruin it like they did Earth.” 

 

“Finn might not like another relationship consumed by causes,” said Rey.

 

“I think you underestimate Finn,” said Holdo. “He gets on board, he just wants to feel like he belongs, too. Poe spread so much of himself around, Finn felt like he was always last in line in the relationship.” 

 

Rey nodded. Finn and Rose’s affection for each other had been a revelation to observe in the last few years.  Rey just wished she wasn’t so much of a third-wheel.  Someday they would want to get a place of their own. Rey didn’t like to think about it. They were her family now. 

 

“Well, I think traffic is probably ok now,” said Rey. “I should head back home. Long week, lots of appointments.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” said Holdo. “Good to see you. Hey, I have a new candidate for you if you are willing to dip back into the dating pool.”

 

“I’ll let you know,” said Rey. They say one is the loneliest number, but the gloomy aftermath of dating sometimes made Rey doubt if two was any better.

 

***

 

The following days on Niima Community College campus were taken up by several appointments to look at portfolios. Rey tried to stifle her yawns of exhaustion.  She could probably eliminate this requirement from her class, no one was making her do it.  But it brought her a satisfaction that she was actually fostering artistic talent, and she wasn’t just a way-station to a four-year college via GE requirements.

 

She enjoyed the chance to get one on one time with her students. Most of them, as she privately predicted, had opted to meet her in the campus café, but that still gave Rey an opportunity to see her students’ work outside the context of the classroom, and to chat a little more about their lives and work.  Sometimes the sense of community in “community college” could feel a little thin to a part-timer.  These moments with her students kept her feeling plugged in, and necessary. 

 

The one thing no one ever mentioned was the feeling of isolation that came with teaching.  Being surrounded by students in a classroom wasn’t as social as it might seem.  It might be different for full-time faculty, who had meetings and committees they were obliged to attend.  They also had offices and, in addition, a role to play on campus that was respected. They weren’t expected to simply quietly glide in and out to serve their students during a limited portion of time.  They were visible.

 

 _The Invisible College,_ thought Rey. Part-timers were a secret society that kept higher education afloat but were expected to not be seen. To be happy they had work. To not complain about the rest of it.

 

Rey shook off her downcast mood. Her next appointment was with Ben Solo. This would take all of her energy and focus.

 

She had just finished up in the café with another student and looked at the slip of paper that Ben had submitted to her for his appointment.  He had not selected the café. 

 

_Horticulture Building 10 Arboretum 4 pm Weds. Nov. 12 th._

She looked at the clock over the counter. 3:45. Yikes, she’d have to hurry to find this place. Rey gathered her tea and purse and scampered out to find a campus map. She usually only had to deal with the art buildings and had no idea where the Horticulture program was located.  Rey hadn’t even been aware there was a Horticulture building on campus, let alone an arboretum.

 

What a curious location.  She jogged quickly, anxiety pulsing along in her head.

 

_I’m late I’m late I’m late…_

 

Rey was in a part of the campus opposite from her usual stomping grounds. She finally faced Building 10, a dusty-looking disused greenhouse ringed in frosted and dirty glass windows, crouched at the end of a seldomly-used parking lot.  It appeared to be the same vintage as the Niima Outpost, built around the founding of the college, and then abandoned. A fringe of trees peeked out from behind the line of the roof. Rey noticed a small dirt path that wound around the side of the building. Arboretum?

 

 _Trail of breadcrumbs._ In for a penny, in for a pound. She wondered if she should have brought a ball of yarn to wind her way out again. Rey walked and walked, until she came to a stone stairway, with rails made of gnarled tree branches.  The air grew cooler, and the trees huddled closer together, creating an otherworldly canopy.  The pitiless light of Niima filtered through the branches. Rays of early winter evening light drew long purple shadows on the ground. 

 

At the top of the staircase, Rey faced a maze of lush roses and trees. She couldn’t believe it. She’d taught at Niima for three years and had never known this place existed. She wandered on the path, winding this way and that. The light flickered through the trees, with sparks shimmering on the edges of wildly blown roses. Finally, she broke into a clearing in a glade of trees, short of breath.  Ben was seated on the opposite end of the clearing, on a stone bench, his portfolio on his knees. His face was hidden by the indigo shade of the trees. He had his sketchbook out and seemed to be drawing.

 

“Hey,” called Rey. Ben looked up at her voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got lost, if you can believe it. I didn’t know this place existed.”

 

Ben smiled, “My mother used to bring me here when I was little. She took classes in the Horticulture program, when Niima had one years ago. I like coming here when I need some quiet. No one seems to know about it now.”

 

Rey caught her breath and sunk onto the bench next to Ben. She set her tea and purse down next to the bench. “Your secret is safe with me,” she smiled. She was perspiring and gasping slightly: she tried to collect herself.  Ben closed his sketchbook and tucked it into a canvas bag at his feet.

 

It was a short bench, but there was enough room to look at Ben’s portfolio, if they balanced it on both of their knees.  Rey tapped the leather cover of his portfolio and grasped it to move it over closer to where she could see it.  Ben unfolded it to disclose the contents. Rey felt her knee slightly press into his—it was a rather small space, and he was trying to fold his limbs tighter to make room for her. Ugh, she must be so sweaty.

 

“Um, I took your suggestion about drawing the guys more. I mean, the vets,” Ben said. “They were really into it too. I took the good paper and some charcoal there for a couple of weekends. I visit there a lot anyway, and they thought it was cool that they were helping me with my homework.”

 

Rey peered into his portfolio in the dimming light.

 

There were several drawings, she was happy to see, and she gave a little hum of pleasure. Rey took each drawing out to look at them individually. Ben had used compressed charcoal and ink washes, and his style had loosened up quite a bit.  The subjects were placed well on the page, and there was a good balance of light and dark.

 

“I was looking at a book of Goya drawings, and saw his prints, _The Disasters of War_. I sort of took away some of that for my style when drawing,” said Ben.

 

The subjects, men injured by war, were touchingly rendered. There was an affection in the way Ben had focused on the faces of his sitters and de-emphasized the hideous nature of their hurts. He hadn’t sugar-coated or smoothed over the wounds but hadn’t made them the center of the pictures. Rey could tell from the subjects that they’d trusted Ben to portray them in moments of intimacy and vulnerability. There was pain and suffering, but there was healing too.

 

Rey felt a prickle of tears starting in her eyes and blinked rapidly to clear them. “Ben, I have to tell you, these are extraordinary,” she said.

 

Ben looked bashful, but pleased. He ducked his head down and smiled slightly.

 

Rey leafed through to the bottom of the pile of drawings. The last drawing caught her attention—it portrayed the injured torso from Ben’s sketchbook. This time the person’s head was included. It was a portrait of Ben.

 

Rey felt her face grow warm. She bit her lip trying to think of something to say that wasn’t totally inadequate. She had a sudden urge to hug him, thinking of him carrying around that destruction on his body where no one could see, until now.

 

“I almost didn’t include this one,” Ben said.

 

“I’m glad that you did,” said Rey. She swallowed hard. She felt rooted to her seat. _Talk, say something._

 

“How did this happen? I’m sorry, that might be offensive to ask,” Rey said. _Oh god, that was probably the_ exactly _wrong thing to ask._

 

He shrugged a bit. “IED,” Ben said. He looked at her with a side glance. “You know what that is? Improvised explosive device.” He took a deep breath. “I took fragments in the chest. I was lucky. The guy in front of me got completely annihilated. He died. The worst of it got him and missed me.”

 

He sounded so matter-of-fact about it. “So, that’s why I’m out. That and a rapid onset of acute combat stress right after that,” Ben said quickly. He looked back at his drawing.

 

Rey said, “Well, I can’t see how that wouldn’t be stressful, to say the least.”

 

Ben looked like he was going to say something but changed his mind. He nodded. Then he said, “Well, I miss the people. The guys I was in with. I like to visit at the VA and talk to the guys there. Other people don’t—really get it, I guess.”

 

It was getting noticeably darker in the grove. Rey cleared her throat. “Well, obviously, you are getting an A for your portfolio. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you sharing these too. I can tell the drawings come from a very powerful place. That’s pretty rare in my class,” she said. “Have you given any thought about submitting some of them for the student show in a month?”

 

“If you think they are good enough, I’d be happy to,” Ben said. “Probably not this one though,” he said, twitching the self-portrait in his hand. “I just drew that one for you to see. That came out wrong. I mean, I’d prefer if lots of other people didn’t see it,” he said. “I don’t want people to just see scars when they see me. If they saw this, that might be all they think about after that.”

 

Rey said, “I understand.” She was moved that he’d shared something so painful with her. Usually she tried to end these meetings on a positive note, but she didn’t want to sound fake and overly-chipper in the wake of his admission to her.  “Any drawings you want to submit will be great for the show,” she said.

 

She glanced around the grove, it was almost totally dark now. Rey gave a ragged breath. This perhaps had not been the best thought-out plan, being with a student at night on a part of campus she wasn’t familiar with. She felt Ben look around too, and he seemed to realize that they were also alone in the dark.

 

“Here, let me pack up my stuff, I can help you to the exit,” he said. “Sorry about that, I forgot the sun was going to go down around when we’d finished. I would have picked someplace more accessible.”

 

She heard the zip of his portfolio and she grabbed her purse and her now-cold cup of tea from the ground. Ben stood and then Rey got up and felt sensation start to tingle back into her knees and ankles. They’d been sitting longer than Rey had thought. She heard the crackle of dead pine needles and leaves as Ben started to walk forward. Rey squinted, hoping to see anything to guide her way. She could see the outline of Ben, and the shadows of the tall trees, both blocking out any starlight.

 

“Shit,” Rey said as she tripped trying to follow Ben. “How can you see?” She felt a hand grab her elbow, quick as a striking cat’s paw. Small noises seemed magnified in the dark. She let him guide her by the elbow across the glade.

 

“I’ve just been here a lot, I have the path memorized. I could walk in here with my eyes closed,” Ben said. “Sorry to grab you like that, but I don’t want you to fall,” he said.

 

Rey felt the prickle of thorns snatching at her clothing as they passed through the rose bushes in the dark. Ben maneuvered them deftly through the path in the maze. Gravel crunched under their feet, and Rey could hear crickets in the distance. The smell of warm roses giving off their fragrance into the cooling air after a day in the sun filled the labyrinth.

 

It began to get less dark toward the end of the path. “We’re at the staircase. Watch your step, the stones aren’t very level,” Ben said. He carefully stepped down first and made sure Rey was steady and guided her down step by step.  They wound their way around the narrow path around the Horticulture building. The trees began to thin, and Rey saw that they were nearing the empty Horticulture parking lot where there were street lamps lit with that eerie yellow light. Ben saw that she could finally see and let go of her elbow.

 

“Let me walk you to your car,” Ben said. Rey started to shake her head, “I’m sure it will be fine, it isn’t that late.” Ben bit his bottom lip and looked at her for a moment. “I’m walking you to your car. Please. I don’t want to be the guy that got the teacher killed,” he said.

 

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Rey said.

 

Ben looked sheepish. “You know, I could have expressed that differently. But really, I’d just feel better if I know you got out of here safe. Even though your car will probably kill you after that.”

 

“Hey, I’m still alive after ten years!” said Rey. She heard Ben mutter under his breath, something that sounded like _miracle_.

 

They wandered together around the Horticulture parking lot and past the sports fields, the sounds of sprinklers clicking in the night air.  The hum of the lights in the parking lots seemed very loud too. She led Ben around to the back of the Organa Arts building, where she had parked her car in the morning. She saw him glance up at the building and make a grimace at the letters with the name on the side.

 

“I hope I didn’t take you far out of your way,” Rey said.

 

“No, I’m parked in here too,” said Ben. “This was where I was headed anyway.” There were only a few cars left in the lot. He gestured with his head toward a vintage black Impala, parked near her car. “That’s me.”

 

“You drive an old car too,” she said.

 

“I can assure you I treat that car like my child and maintain it in the safest operating condition technology will allow,” Ben said, exhaling with a sigh of suffering, looking at Rey’s car. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and gave her a pained look.

 

“Well, I should go, it’s getting late,” Rey said.

 

“I want to be sure you make it out of here in that thing,” said Ben, standing aside with his arms folded. He’d leaned his portfolio against the side of his car and didn’t look like he was in a hurry to leave. Rey didn’t know if she should laugh or feel offended. She gave a cheery wave and opened up her car door, which protested with a metallic whine. 

 

Self-consciously she turned the key in the ignition and listened for the screech of the belt that informed her once again that it needed replacing. Rey cranked down her car window, put her car into reverse, and gave a royal wave to Ben, like the Queen of England, to look posh in her trash car.  He shook his head and looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh or a ripple of horror, it was hard to tell which.

 

“Everything is perfectly fine,” she called to him and pulled away toward the college exit toward the freeway entrance. She glanced in her rear-view mirror. Ben remained standing by his car, his arms still folded, watching as she drove away.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song "Innocence." https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/innocence/
> 
> Allow me to thank everyone again who has read, commented, or left a kudo. I am almost done with the whole work, and I'm determined to finish it just for its own sake, but it it definitely a shot in the arm to know some other people have had their interest piqued by the story. I am grateful. I hope you have wonderful weekend. xo


	10. Degeneration suits you now I’m going home to cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW--so just be warned.

Early November 2007 part two

 

Rey awoke with a start in the middle of the night, her back feeling tight and her breasts painful and swollen. Every point of her body felt stretched thin, like a tent pulled too tight over its poles. Waves of unwelcome sensation, both pain, and desire, rolled over her. She had been dreaming, and either the pain or the pleasure could have woken her up.

 

She ground a knuckle into the sand in her eyes and took a drink of water from the bottle on her nightstand. Rey did a mental count and realized she must be close to her period. She tried to close her eyes and to find a cool spot on her pillow. Insomnia always dogged her during PMS and her period. Closing her eyes and trying to count to ten over and over might help her get back to sleep.

 

Not tonight though. Not ever, if she was being honest. She always tried that, and it never worked.

 

Rey huffed out a tired sigh and threaded a hand under the covers down to her cunt. Her curls were warm and her folds treacherously wet. Horniness also dogged her during PMS. _What a pain in the ass_ , she thought. Masturbating strictly for maintenance would take time away from precious sleep time, but she obviously wasn’t getting any sleep now. She closed her eyes tightly and rubbed her fingers gently around her clit, feeling feeble sparks of sensation beginning to tingle. Rey chased that, hoping this would be quick and she could rest.

 

Things stalled however. She tried to rub herself deeper with a finger, slick into her depths. This also almost never worked either, but maybe for once, her body would cooperate.  Nope. She was just making things worse, with no building anticipation of satisfaction. Every nerve in her body just wanted her to jump on something full and penetrating, to reach deep.

 

Rey tried to visualize her usual fantasy, a faceless sort of demon-lover who could shift and change with whatever her moods were. He never had to speak, or even know her, he just had to be there, and he always was.  _Come on_ , she thought, conjuring up the gray figure who would cover her and touch her with no questions or demands. She moved her fingers inside faster, imagining they were someone else’s fingers, longer and thicker. A tiny little hopeful moan escaped from her lips.

 

Her fingers were still her own fingers though--her sensations had stalled, and she was half in and half out of the state she needed to be in.

 

Rey didn’t know why she always tried to avoid what she knew she required. That was what it was there for, but for some reason using it made her feel like a failure and vaguely dirty and hopeless. Sweet little girls didn’t use dildos, or something. But this one did.

 

She shoved open her nightstand in resignation, trying to not feel pathetic as she fished for her toy and a condom to fit on it. Her cunt ached viciously now, tweaking her in slow taunts, after winning its silent bet with her that Rey would give in. She got everything situated and used one hand to part her lips, as she eased the shaft of her toy inside. A wave of relief spread through her stiffened hips. Her charged and tight breasts eased a bit. Rey flipped over and pulled the covers closer to be able to thrust against them. Her nipples rubbed on her blanket, and she rocked back and forth, getting feeling from both ends, trying to quiet her mind and settle down to get done with this.

 

Rey found a rhythm that seemed to help, beckoning again to her faceless lover, trying to pretend to sense the weight of his body on her back, thrusting from behind, touching her hips, easing her to her desired finish. She felt that spot inside that she liked beginning to fire up with pressure and sparks.  For several minutes she rocked and rocked, nearly in tears and exhausted. She couldn’t go to sleep without coming, and this wasn’t working.

 

Her demon-lover found a voice for once: _What do you need me to do?_ It was a nice low voice, soothing and delicious. A voice that sounded like taking care of her was his sole priority. Her hips bucked eagerly. _More, deeper, more there, more more._

A vision bloomed in her mind, arising like smoke from a genie’s lamp. She could see her imaginary lover, pressed on her, his long legs extended between her legs, like she was seeing the both of them from above, while she was also underneath him.  Her womb felt congested and she groaned in pleasure, taking in more, imagining a delicious cock inside, warm and full of desire for her. _Is this what you needed?_ she heard _Tell me. I want to hear you say it._

_Yes, deeper. I want you to fill me,_ she thought back.

 

The vision she’d summoned expanded, the background filling in: she could see more of their surroundings. She and her lover were on the ground, there was a crunch of dead leaves under a blanket, and if she looked up she could see--trees? Her imaginary man was very tall, and his longish black hair dipped past his face as he looked down on her body--

 

She stopped. Her stupid treacherous fucking brain. 

 

_He’s my student. NO._ Rey almost screamed in frustration, BLOODY HELL _WHY?_ She was so close, but she had a _strict_ no-student policy for her personal life, and she’d scrupulously kept that rule in her fantasy life too. It was a boundary she felt very strongly about. She tried to banish that whole vision, stuff it back into the genie bottle—while trying to not lose the progress she’d made. Rey bit her lip and almost began to cry. Even when fucking herself she was a miserable failure.

 

Her orgasm was circling the tarmac trying to land, and she was trying to find it a god-damned runway. Why couldn’t her body just have a cock, she could pull on that for ten minutes and fall asleep like a fucking corpse. 

 

Her unsympathetic brain seemed to say, _Hey, your call. The other thing was working. It’s not like he’s ever going to know about it anyway._ The sensations she’d worked hard to get were starting to fade, and if she didn’t— _fuck it_.

 

_Yes, Ben. Give me what I need._

She’d make time to feel guilty about it later.

 

The crackle of the leaves got louder as their rhythm grew faster. Rey imagined her fingers stretched out, purling into the scratchy but warm wool blanket that her naked body was deliciously pressed into. She could feel Ben’s cock sliding filthily in and out of her cunt, electric pulses firing around the base of his cock, rubbing her inside and outside. Her clit rubbed in time with her nipples on the blanket, and she stretched like a cat, chasing the feeling of fullness. _Feel my body_ , she gasped. _Touch me._ A large hand caressed her shoulders, and then trailed down to stroke the side of her breast and then to gently pinch her nipple. 

 

Rey took a heady lungful of air as a crash of pleasure surged through her. Yesss. She pressed harder against Ben’s body, fucking herself against his cock. She could feel her cervix tingling like it was being kissed hard and insistently.  Rey breathed, and she seemed to sense a fragrance of roses, mixed with the earthy scent of their bodies fucking.

_Come on my cock, Rey. I want to hear you._

She arched up in shock, her entire body and her mind whited out with an electric storm of sensation. Rey pounded through her release, her mouth open in a silent and long whimper, as pleasure melted along her bones.  Thrums of aftershocks followed, and she twitched herself on Ben’s cock.

 

_That’s it, you are doing so good for me._

She gasped again, as another orgasm bloomed from that spot inside, feeling the tip of his cock riding it, strumming it. The backs of her legs went numb and Rey collapsed, wet with her come and sweat. So tired and stretched out. She felt her walls of her cunt press back tightly, shuddering back down to normal, and the waves of sensation floated around her arms and chest.

 

Her fantasy had dissolved into vapor as soon as her orgasm faded. There would be no helping Ben to come too, since he’d never been there in the first place. Pleasure was replaced by a subdued sense of hollowness. Rey felt abysmal that she’d somehow transposed Ben’s favorite glade and their portfolio meeting into some trashy quickie roll in the leaves.

 

Her cramps, at least, had abated.

 

She slowly removed her toy with a wince and put it aside to clean in the morning. She pushed her sweaty hair back, and wiped perspiration off of her forehead.

 

Suddenly, she realized she really was crying. Fat hot drops of tears were rolling down her face. Everything was just too much. A crash of emotions pulled at her head, and she just wanted to drift in oblivion.

 

Rey rearranged her blanket back to normal, tucking it around herself securely, trying to make it feel like arms around her, holding her until she fell asleep. Somehow, she had never felt more alone. Her body shook until she finally blanked out and slept. 

 

***

 

_She and the young man fly from the island and over the ocean.  She holds his hand and he holds hers, as she dips with him to show him the sea birds who fly around the island. She takes him to show him where the secret ships are wrecked beneath the waves. She shows him where the water is so deep, the light of the moon never reaches the bottom of the ocean._

_As they fly over and over the ocean, she takes her other hand and points to the horizon, to a haze of lights on a line of shore._

 

_“That is where I am from.”_

_“Do you want to show me?”_

_She frowns. She was never happy there. Alone in a cottage from the time she was a child, her parents lost or fled. Never enough food. Discovering her wings and the ocean had saved her life, though it never eased the loneliness._

_“Perhaps another time,” she said._

_“How about you, where you are from?” she asked._

_“It is this way,” he said._

_The young man pulled them gently in a circle, and they seemed to fly for an hour._

_“Who were your people?” she asked to break the silence._

_“My mother was a princess and my father was a ship’s captain. He met her while she led her people into a great battle, and she saved his life when he was captured by the enemy. They fell in love. They were victorious in battle. They married and were happy for a while. My mother gave birth to me, the prince.”_

_“They did not know that they had pricked the envy of a fairy king. He was jealous of their happiness. He attended my christening and told my parents he was giving me the gift of powerful magic. In exchange, when I turned 13, it would be required that I go to him as his apprentice. He would train me as a great warrior for battle.”_

_“My parents agreed, thinking that they would never need to send me. The battle was over, and the fairy king would have no need of a powerful warrior in their son.  I grew up with great powers as a child, trained to be the prince. Then I turned 13.”_

_He fell quiet._

_“We are nearing it,” he said._

_She looked at the dark haze where land would be, a haunted looking band of starlight, shot through with flying stones, strangely lit gasses, and strikes of lightning._

_“This is where I am from.”_

_“What is this place?”_

_“It isn’t a place. It’s a war.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post three chapters today. I realized after last week that the way I'd posted meant that this week's two chapters would end on a total bummer of an episode, and although I like dramatic cliffhangers, I feel that leaving this weekend on a down note in the story would make me sad. Hopefully no one will mind. 
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Innocence," which I use a lot, it's one of my favorites.  
> https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/innocence/


	11. When you eat no one else does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: misogyny, vomiting, stress, unpleasant visits to the doctor. More with the part of the tag with Hux in college. This chapter is kind of dark, I'll put a summary at the end if you choose to skip.

Early Winter 1997

 

“Where am I?” asked Rey.

 

She pulled the sheets up around her breasts, fighting a prickling feeling of numb horror. Snoke the ferret sniffed curiously at her, blinking. Hux did much the same. He was wearing a black terrycloth bathrobe, and his hair looked mussed from sleep.

 

“You don’t remember?” Hux asked. “We dropped off Jessika, and then you said you’d like to have another drink. I told you I had something we could drink at my place, and you thought that was a good idea.”

 

Hux turned his head back to what he’d been doing before. He was flipping through a stack of records across the room. He had a small smile on his face, focused on searching for something.

 

 _Think Rey, what the fuck happened_ , she thought.

 

“I’m going to take a shower in a moment, busy night,” Hux said cheerfully. Rey felt another wave of nausea roll through her guts. Where _were her clothes?_

“Ah,” Hux said. Apparently, he found what’d been looking for. He pulled a record from its sleeve and placed it on the record player spindle, and then placed the needle on the record. Rey thought wildly that Jessika’s drunken prediction that the technology-fanatic Hux would secretly have a collection of vinyl turned out to be spot on.

 

He turned and left through a door and guitar sounds came out from the speakers.

 

 _Man got his woman to take his seed he got the power oh she got the need_  
_She spends her life through pleasing up her man she feeds him dinner or anything she can_  
 _She cries alone at night too often he smokes and drinks and don't come home at all_  
 _Only women bleed only women bleed only women bleed_

 

She began to shake.  Rey got up slowly and saw her clothes hanging on the back of a desk chair.  She pulled a sheet around her from the bed. Feeling like she was trying to walk through setting concrete, she stepped across the floor, trembling. She reached her clothes. Rey checked for any signs of damage to her clothing, but it all seemed fine, just a bit wrinkled. Her purse was at the foot of the chair.

 

Her panties were missing though.

 

She craned her head around violently, panicking. Rey spotted her underwear rolled half under another sheet on the bed. She dove back for them, feeling fractured and out of breath. The taste in her mouth was vile. She had to get the fuck out of there.

 

Rey’s heart was racing, listening for sounds of water from the shower from the hallway. She flung on her clothes, which felt scratchy and stale. Fear paralyzed her. She was afraid to walk out past the bathroom. Rey couldn’t stay there though, the site of some terrible accident.   _No no no no no no_

_Don’t think. MOVE._

She tiptoed gently and swiftly past the door to the bathroom. Hux seemed to be humming. Rey’s guts gave another twist. She’d never had to pee so hard in her life, but she would rather die on the spot than wait for Hux to leave the bathroom and have to find out—

 

**_Go._ **

****

Rey didn’t glance left or right, she just tried to home in on finding an exit. She found the front door, padding on her toes to try to muffle any sounds, and scrabbled for the knob. It was locked. Panic rising, she fumbled with the latches, finally finding a combination that made the knob turn.

 

She ran down the front steps, and then jammed her ankle landing hard on the sidewalk. Rey disregarded the pain and started walking and jogging as quickly as possible in any direction. The signs in this neighborhood did not have familiar street names. It was quiet, and Rey didn’t recognize any landmarks.

 

_I have to find something eventually. I’m not going back there._

She was sweating, and fumes rolled off of her. Rey was so dizzy. Her gorge rose again, and she paused to vomit violently into some hedges. She struggled to get her breath. _Keep walking._

 

Finally, the sounds of some road traffic emerged in the distance.  Rey wheeled in that direction and walked determinedly with a clenched jaw until she finally got out to San Junipero Avenue, the main street through town. She didn’t even know what time it was, but there was sure to be a bus soon. The sun was up high enough to give Rey’s headache an extra yank of intensity. She fumbled in her purse for her sunglasses and her bus pass.

 

Rey found a bus stop for a line she could ride to transfer to the route back to her apartment. The bus stop bench was sticky with mystery stains, but she sank down on it, grateful to rest. The smell of car exhaust was making her sick; soon she’d be home though.

 

The second Rey put her key into the lock on her front door, the door swung open, and a frightened-looking Rose stared at her in relief.

 

“Where the fuck have you been? Jessika called me last night to see if you’d gotten home safely, and then you never came home,” Rose nearly sobbed. “She said a teacher had given you a ride, but she sounded weird about it, and then I didn’t hear from you, you didn’t call.” 

 

“Oh, Rose,” Rey began, and then her tears started. “Oh, god.” 

 

***

 

Rose bit her lip. She’d let Rey take a shower, brush her teeth, change out of her smelly clothes into her bathrobe, and then had ordered her onto the couch. Rose brewed her a cup of mint tea to settle Rey’s hungover stomach and watched her as Rey tearfully sipped at it.

 

“So, I mean? Did he say anything when you woke up?” Rose asked. Rey could tell what she was trying to ask. Her chest ached. She’d told Rose that she’d woken up not wearing her clothes, and in Hux’s bed apparently.

 

“I honestly don’t remember. I don’t remember going to his house or drinking more. My clothes—why they were off. I don’t know,” Rey said. “I would have never done anything like that by choice. I hate him, and he was horrible to me yesterday in class.” 

 

“How was he acting?” Rose asked. “This morning, I mean.”

 

“Sm-smug,” Rey faltered. “Like he had a little secret. Oh, Rose.”  The true horror of the situation she was now in was dawning on her, adding to her sense of despair. She was going to have to see Hux, every single remaining day of her school career.

 

“I hate to be gross, but was there anything down there this morning, were you like sticky, or did you have strange pains, mystery bruises?” asked Rose.

 

Rey shook her head. There hadn’t been anything like that. But who knew what had happened? She hadn’t thought to check for stains on the sheets, she’d just wanted to get the hell out of there.

 

“You should go get checked. Anyway. You don’t know if he has something, or if he used anything, or—” Rose said, practically. Rey sagged with her head almost to her knees. Oh god, she wasn’t on the pill or anything, she was a virgin—had been a virgin—and hadn’t planned to change that.  She would have to take a pregnancy test, and everything.

 

“Go down to Planned Parenthood. They’ll take care of you,” said Rose. “I get my check-ups there. Get some sleep today and call them tomorrow. One day later won’t make a difference anyway,” she said ominously.

 

***

 

Rey debated whether to take a day off of school but decided that her being missing the day after being seen going off with Hux would put her at a psychological disadvantage.  Ceding the field to Hux would only give him the chance to exult over what had happened, and also to spread stories about the night.  Better to just soldier on and take the consequences. CSD was a small school, and news would travel fast.

 

Mercifully, there was no sign of Hux that next day at school. Perhaps he was getting ready for his own end of the year critiques of his work in the graduate department. Rey didn’t have any classes with Jessika that day either and managed to avoid all of her other friends.  She felt like she knew how wounded animals who crawl off to be alone to die must feel.

 

Once she returned home again, she called and made an appointment at the clinic. There was no use putting things off, anything that could materialize would only get worse with time. 

 

When the day arrived, Rey found herself face-to-face with a sweet-looking lady doctor, who seemed concerned that Rey was having problems explaining her exact sexual history.  Once the basics of when the first day of her last period were past, Rey stumbled on the next question of whether she’d been sexually active.

 

“That’s kind of why I’m here. I’m not—actually sure?” Rey stammered. Dr. Kalonia raised an eyebrow. “I woke up with a man, and I don’t really know what happened.”

 

“You didn’t ask, or he didn’t say anything, or you aren’t sure if what you did was sex?” Dr. Kalonia asked.

 

“I mean, I don’t remember anything. He acted like it, but I’ve never had sex before, so, I mean, I really don’t know,” Rey said miserable. “He didn’t say anything specific the next day.”

 

“Well, we’ll get a urine sample from you in a minute. For now, let me have a look and see what we can see,” said the doctor.  “Get undressed, get into this robe while I’m out ordering some tests, and then lie down under this cover and put your feet up.”

 

Rey did as she was asked and crackled on the stiff tissue paper on the examination table. She stared up at the panels in the ceiling and counted to ten, over and over, to try to clear her mind of fear. Dr. Kalonia returned to the examination room.

 

The doctor prodded as gently as possible and conducted her exam. Rey kept staring at the ceiling, feeling numb. _One step at a time, just deal with what is going on right now, worry about later when it comes._

“No sign of abrasions or tearing. There’s a little hymen left, but you could have torn it with sexual activity, or by normal exercise. I don’t see any sign of force or redness. There isn’t any real way to tell one way or another if a woman is still a virgin, but I’d say with almost certainty that you hadn’t been penetrated recently. When did you say this happened?”

 

“The day before last,” said Rey.

 

The doctor sniffed thoughtfully. “I wish I could tell you for sure one way or another, but at least we can run some tests and make sure you’re ok. I’m going to take a swab, and then you’ll take this cup and we will run a pregnancy test.” 

 

After the doctor left again, Rey put her clothes on. She tried to squelch a feeling of hope. Even if Hux hadn’t fucked her, it didn’t mean they hadn’t done other things. And like the doctor said, there was no 100 percent way to tell one way or another. Moreover, the fact that she’d gone home with him was something he could spin any way he wanted it to look like.

 

He could say whatever he wanted.

 

Rey took the cup down the hallway and followed the directions on the side. It was unbelievable how many shitty things she had to do in one day, because of that asshole Hux. She also blamed herself, for somehow getting into that situation. Rey kept replaying the last three hours of that day, wishing there was a way to go back in time. There had to be one crucial choice she could have made differently, that would have prevented all of this. Rey could feel a creeping sense of despair, in the isolation of the clinic restroom.

 

Her chore done, she went back to the doctor’s exam room. Dr. Kalonia entered a moment later, holding a clipboard. “So, we will let you know the results of these tests ASAP, probably in a day or two.”

 

“I just wanted to let you know, it’s not ok what he did to you. No matter what happened. It’s pretty messed up. And if you want to talk to someone about it, we can make a referral. It’s all confidential,” said Dr. Kalonia.

 

Rey needed to get out of here. There were too many feelings roiling around in her chest, and if she didn’t get things under control, she would start to cry and not be able to stop. She nodded. “Can I go now?”

 

Dr. Kalonia pressed her lips together and looked unhappy. “Yes, you can go now. Get some rest. Try to be good to yourself.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title is also from "Innocence."
> 
> The song Hux plays is “Only Women Bleed” by Alice Cooper on the album "Welcome to My Nightmare." 
> 
> Summary: Rey wakes up and doesn't know how she got to Hux's house. It is implied that something sexual may or may not have happened with Hux, and he won't say, choosing to taunt her. Rey's friends worry about what happened to her, and she goes to the doctor, where there are no clear conclusions about what transpired either. Either way, it is a fucked up situation. 
> 
> (A personal note: I've written Rey in a way where she blames herself for what happened with Hux, but as a PSA, you should never blame yourself if this happens to you. Anyone who takes advantage of someone vulnerable is a fucking psycho.)


	12. Got my eyes wide open and I see the signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is trope-y as fuck and I have zero regrets.

December 2007

 

Rey loved the end of the semester student show. The funky gallery in the Niima Outpost was hardly the Gagosian, but just being in the space, looking around at the walls, empty and full of possibility, gave her a spiritual jolt.

 

Last week Rey had asked her class for student volunteers to help her hang the show. It wouldn’t actually matter to her if anyone showed up, but she felt that including students in the process would give them some experience of how to bring art to the public, even in this limited venue. 

 

She admired the long and empty walls, and fantasized that they were hers, for her art. She imagined cracking her fingers and toes, and grasping a fresh piece of charcoal, and covering the expanses with huge portraits. There’s a stirring in her that feels almost erotic. Rey even knew what music she would play while drawing.  “My War,” by Black Flag and “Twentieth Century Boy,” by T-Rex, and maybe “Cherry Bomb,” by Joan Jett too. She loved loud and aggressive music while drawing. She felt a throb of energy, wishing she could just fill the space with her art. There was a different kind of satisfaction in seeing the progress of her student—another form of creation.  But not the same.

 

Rey had a couple of portfolios filled with drawings from her class. She began to lay out the work in front of the walls, frowning thoughtfully, to see which drawings worked well next to each other.

 

She was so lost in thought, Rey didn’t hear footsteps or breathing, until she sensed that someone was right behind her. She jumped and whirled, narrowly avoiding stepping on a drawing.

 

Ben was there, looking down thoughtfully at the drawings on the floor layout.  “I thought you’d have more people here to help,” he said. 

 

“Oh!” said Rey, “You know, people get busy, finals and all.” 

 

“Thank you for coming to help,” she added, “I appreciate it.” She really did appreciate it. The gallery was going to be nearly 80 degrees inside in a few hours, and the faster she could hang and light the show before the room turned into a sauna, the better.

 

“Of course,” Ben said gravely. “I’ve never helped put up an art show before. Where do you need me?”

 

She felt her cheeks grow hot. Rey tried to squash the unbidden images in her mind from her illicit fantasy the other night and focus.

 

Rey looked around at the layout she’d created on the floor. “Grab that box of pins, let’s hang these guys.” She took a level out of her tote bag. “You’re tall, you pin, and I’ll check the level.”

 

Ben and Rey worked quietly, Ben pinning the corner of each drawing, Rey placing the level across the top, reaching up slightly on her toes to measure the top edge. She’d nod, and Ben would place another pin in the opposite corner and then both would place pins in the bottom corners. In about an hour, all the pieces were hung on the walls, and Rey looked around, clearing her head.

 

“It looks good,” said Ben. “Like a real art show.”

 

Rey said, “It is a real art show.” She smiled. “Or almost. Now we have to light.” She looked up at the track lighting, which unsurprisingly was the cheap and rickety kind that heated up quickly. She’d had the gallery lights off, so they’d stayed cool enough to touch until they were needed.  Rey nodded to the bank of switches on the opposite wall near Ben, and he flipped all of them to the on position. Rey groaned, the lights were all aimed in strange places.

 

“They must have had a sculpture show in here last time. We are going to have to move every single one of these. Is that ok? I don’t want to take up your whole day,” she said.

 

“I’m here to help,” said Ben. “This is interesting, anyway. The art looks different this way, and I like seeing how you are putting it all together. I’d like to see how the lighting thing works.” 

 

Rey went over to the tall wooden ladder leaning against the wall and started to drag it under the lighting rack. “Hey, let me help,” Ben said and leapt with long strides over to her side of the room. 

 

“It’s alright, it’s not that heavy,” Rey said. She swung the ladder into position, but Ben was still trying to wrestle it away from her gently. “I _can_ do it,” she said.

 

“I’m sure you _can_ ,” Ben said. “I _can_ help you though.” He pulled the ladder apart and pressed the spreaders down with a snap and tested their sturdiness with a wiggle. It creaked loudly and cheerfully. “How old is this thing?”

 

“Old enough to drink legally, probably,” Rey huffed. “Here, I’ll let you hold the ladder, I’m going to aim the lights.” It was a rather wobbly ladder. She’d had a few shaky episodes on the thing and was secretly glad there was someone there as a spotter and to hold it steady.

 

Rey looked up and made sure she was under the fixture she wanted to move, and climbed, keeping her eyes on the light. She hated these. Fortunately, most of them just needed to be re-aimed, and not moved entirely. Rey gingerly grasped the light, which was just beginning to get warm, and rotated it until the beam hit the drawing on the wall, and then moved it up so the spot hit the middle.

 

“Hey,” said Ben, “that really makes it pop.” He looked intrigued. Rey grinned. Lighting artwork really was magical in a way. She also felt delighted.

 

“See, it’s all smoke and mirrors, really,” Rey said. “Special effects.”

 

She pointed, and Ben dragged the ladder to underneath the next light. Several of the next lights just needed to be aimed at the wall, so the work went relatively quickly. Rey was glad, as the lights were already getting too hot to touch comfortably. The last one needed to be moved. Shit. Rey gritted her teeth and took off her cardigan to hold the light with it, as a make-shift potholder.

 

She crept carefully up the ladder steps, using one hand, the other hand holding her sweater. She had to get up on a higher step for this, to get enough leverage to pop the light out of its track. The light needed to be twisted at its stem and then rotated, and then, if that worked, it would drop out of the track. She would have to be ready to catch it, so it didn’t crash to the floor. Or burn her.

 

“I should have done this one first, what was I thinking,” Rey said.

 

Ben said, “I could, if you want—”

 

“No,” Rey said. “There’s a trick to these.” She’d never hear the end of it if she got a student hurt doing this. She lucked out on the first try, the devilish thing popped out of the track and fell neatly into her sweater. Rey could feel the heat of the light through the fabric.  She carefully handed the light down to Ben and climbed down off the ladder. She gestured to where the ladder needed to go, and Ben dragged it in the direction she indicated, after re-handing her the light. Rey was glad they were almost done, beads of sweat were starting to pop out on both of them, the air in the hot gallery was getting even warmer from the lights.

 

She handed the light to Ben to hand up to her when she got to the top of the ladder. He placed one hand on the ladder to keep it steady as she went up. When she got to the step she needed, he handed up the light. Fortunately, his arms were long enough to reach up to where she had climbed. That was lucky. Rey blew out her breath and braced herself to reinsert the light into its track.

 

The light resisted her as she tried to thread the stem into the track.

 

_C’mon you fucker_ , she thought. She wriggled it until she finally heard it catch in the track. Now to twist it, to power on the light. Rey pressed gently and firmly, trying to feel for the sweet spot. Who had designed these things?

 

“Ok up there?” asked Ben.

 

“Yeah, just one more—” Rey felt the light give in the groove and triumphantly pressed and twisted the fixture at the same time. She heard it click into place with a snap, as it slid into place with an unexpected ease — so unexpectedly easy that she almost forgot to compensate for the lack of resistance. With something of a jerk, she shifted her balance to regain her footing as the ladder creaked in response.

 

Only suddenly there was no step.

 

She screamed and plunged downwards. Her vision whited out for a second, as her whole body cringed in preparation for a catastrophic impact with the floor.  But instead her fall was arrested in a confused tangle of limbs, and she had fallen right into Ben Solo, who’d had his arms out to catch her in time.

 

“Rey!” he yelled. “Jesus, are you ok?” Her brain tried to make sense of this--obviously, if he was holding her, he could see if she was ok or not, right? She blinked, perplexed, and then nodded slightly.  All at once, her thoughts finally caught up with events. Shit, she was _in the arms of--._ Rey squirmed, trying to get free to stand on her feet. Ben set her down carefully, but her knees buckled. Shock at what had nearly happened was setting in, and she could feel her face start to crumple in fear.

 

“Hey, hey—here.” Ben put an arm under her shoulders and walk-carried her over to a wall and helped her slide down until she was sitting on the floor. “Put your head between your knees. It will help you not to faint.”

 

“I never faint,” Rey tried to say, but it came out in a small mew instead. She heard Ben climb up the ladder and aim the light at the picture it was intended for. She glanced up—he did a good job. He slid down the ladder and frowned at it and shook his head. Ben popped the spreaders and folded the ladder and carried it effortlessly to lean against the back wall. He collected her box of push pins, her abandoned cardigan, and her level and put them all back into her tote bag, and then brought it over to where she slumped on the floor.

 

Rey tried to struggle upright, attempting to collect some dignity. “I’m so sorry, how stupid.”

 

“Why are you apologizing?” asked Ben darkly. Rey looked up at his face but couldn’t read what he was thinking.

 

“I’m your teacher, I feel bad I put you in that position, you shouldn’t have to see that, or have to save me, or—”

 

“This school has money,” said Ben. “They could afford a new fucking ladder. They could afford a staff person to do this shit. You shouldn’t have to put yourself in danger to do your job.”

 

Rey blinked away incipient tears. Wait until he found out why she was really terrified to get injured--the school didn’t offer health insurance to part-timers. A serious accident like that would have wiped her out financially and put her in debt for years. She shuddered and felt weakness shiver through her again.

 

Ben looked alarmed at her face, she must look dire. Rey had to get a grip on herself. She’d be in deep trouble if the school heard she’d been so unprofessional. Ben extended a hand down to her, and she took it and he pulled her up. She put her hand out for her tote bag, but he hung on to it.

 

He looked thoughtful. “You shouldn’t drive,” Ben said. “You look like shit.”

 

***

 

Rey argued with him all the way out to his Impala, gently trying to assert her professional control and cheerfully assure him she was fine, and she was perfectly capable.  Ben listened to all of her efforts of persuasion with patience, as he unlocked his trunk and put her tote-bag into it, and then went around and unlocked his car’s passenger-side door and gestured for her to enter.

 

“But my car,” Rey protested, “How will I get it back?”

 

“I will bring another person with me, after I drop you off at home, and we will drive back in two cars.”

 

“That’s insane,” Rey said, “the traffic will kill you, that’s so much driving. I live an hour away from here! I can’t possibly put you to that much trouble.” 

 

Ben looked at her hands, which were still shaking from her dangerous near-miss with injury. 

 

“If you still feel bad about it later, you can buy me coffee,” said Ben, “but you aren’t driving. Not tonight.” His mouth was set.

 

Rey got into the car. 

 

She was right, the traffic was terrible.

 

“Here, look for something to listen to,” said Ben, after they got underway, moving at a crawl. He pointed to a box of tapes at her feet.

 

Rey pawed through the box, glad to be at least a little helpful. She recognized his handwriting on a few of the cassette labels—mixtapes.

 

“Hey, we have similar tastes,” Rey said. She clicked eagerly through the box, finding a tape labelled “Manchester Punk.” She put the tape into his stereo and turned the volume up a little higher.

 

“I love The Buzzcocks,” she said. “I got to see them live when I was in college.” 

 

“Oh wow,” said Ben, “that must have been so cool.”

 

“It was, it was amazing. I went with my friend Jessika, and we actually got asked backstage,” said Rey.

 

“Holy shit, no way,” Ben said.

 

Encouraged, Rey told him her favorite story about how she and Jessika had hung out at the Canto Bight Arms backstage, incredulously watching Pete Shelley managing to get drunk on Miller Light, and trying to pretend they were cool enough to party with punk gods.  They’d met and talked to all the band members, and they even put Jessika and Rey on the guest list for their show the next night—which was in San Francisco, several hours away.

 

“We tried so hard to think of a way to get up there. But we also had a drawing final the very next day, with a big critique. We were so close to just saying, fuck it, and failing it. Jessika’s car wouldn’t make it up there though, and we were way too poor to fly. It was torture. Finally, at 2 am after the show, we did the drawings for our final the next day. They were—not great. But we passed. Education won over glamorous rockstar groupie life.”

 

“Hmm, you left that part out of your directions for our final—go to a live show the night before and turn in your worst work the next day,” Ben said.

 

Rey laughed, “You’re right, I did. I just assume my students will do it without my telling them to.” 

 

“Hey,” Ben said, “I intend to absolutely ace that final. I’ll set a good example. Much better than my teacher.”

 

“I’m sure you will, Ben, I’m sure you will,” said Rey.

 

***

 

Ben pulled up to Rey’s apartment building and asked for her car keys. Rey wasn’t sure if Rose or Finn were home, but Ben said he had someone at his house who could drive his car back while Ben drove Rey’s car.  He waved goodbye, and Rey turned to go into her building, to wait for her car to come back.

 

She got a beer from the fridge, and made a piece of cheese toast, not feeling up to anything more challenging.  Eventually Rose returned, and then Finn. They asked where her car was, and she explained the entire series of events from the afternoon. 

 

“That was nice of your student,” said Rose. “You have to give him an A now.”

 

“It doesn’t work that way,” Rey protested, “but he was getting an A anyway.” She’d had no intention of getting so personally entangled with a student that he’d be driving her car back to her house—she really would owe him coffee, though.  After classes were over.

 

It was nearly 9 pm when Rey finally heard the rattle of her car in front of the building.  She dashed off of the couch before Rose or Finn could say anything and hurried outside to reclaim her car and thank Ben and his friend. To her surprise, there was an older woman in the driver’s seat of Ben’s Impala, and Ben was leaning into the window, telling her to get in on the passenger side, so he could drive. There seemed to be some dispute over whether this would go the way Ben wanted. Ben spotted Rey though, and walked over to her to give her her car keys.

 

“So, you survived the death car,” Rey said. “Thank you so much, I really owe you and your friend for helping me.”

 

“Yeah, you really do,” said Ben. “I’ve never been so terrified in my life, and that’s including military experience. Plus, my mother is trying to steal my car now.”

 

“Oh, that’s your mother? Let me meet her, so I can say thank you, that’s so sweet of her.”

 

“Sweet?” said Ben. “We’ll see.”

 

Ben’s mother had exited the car and was beelining her way over the lawn to her son and Rey.

 

“You didn’t tell me she was pretty, Ben.” 

 

He closed his eyes, with slight horror. “Rey, this is my mother, Leia. Leia, this is my _drawing teacher_ , Rey.” He opened his eyes and glared at the smaller woman. 

 

“So nice to meet you dear. I’m a former Niima student too, and I still take an interest,” said Leia. “A lot of interest, actually.” 

 

“Yes, Ben told me, you were in the Horticulture program?” said Rey.

 

“Well, that’s great,” said Ben, “glad everyone could meet. Mom, it’s past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

 

Leia’s brown eyes gleamed with mischief, “After ice cream, you promised. I hear my son’s work is in your student show at Niima. Perhaps I’ll see you again at the opening there, Rey.”

 

“Hey, now,” said Ben, “I wasn’t aware you were invited.”

 

Rey suppressed a laugh, “Well, it is open to the public, Ben. Anyone can attend. Your mom should see your work, it is great!”

 

“Every mother loves to hear her son is doing well in school from his teacher,” said Leia. “Even when he’s in his thirties.”

 

Ben grabbed his mother’s shoulder and steered her toward his car. “Goodnight Rey, see you next week.” Rey heard mutters and Leia’s laugh from the pair as they neared Ben’s car.  Ben won the argument about who would drive, and he waved to Rey as he pulled away. 

 

Rey watched until they turned the corner at the end of her block, and then went back inside.

 

“So who was the hottie? Your student? We had to spy out the window to get this intel,” said Finn.

 

“Yeah, Rey. You kind of forgot to mention the part where your student is fucking gorgeous. You left that part out,” said Rose.

 

“He’s _my student_ ,” Rey protested. “I told you about him before, he’s a veteran, and--”

 

“Oh, the gorgeous student is also Mr. Tormented? Much becomes clear,” Finn hooted.

 

Rose laughed, “Tall, dark, and tortured, the trifecta.”

 

“Guys, I’m serious. You know how I feel about that sort of thing, because of what happened to me,” said Rey. “Plus, it’s against the law. Or Ed. code. Or something.” 

 

Finn looked serious. “Peanut, what happened to you is totally different. That asshole Hux knew you were barely legal, not old enough to drink, and was in a position of power over you.”

 

“I know,” said Rey. “But still, it’s something I take seriously. Teachers _are_ in a position of power over all of their students, and some boundaries you shouldn’t cross.” 

 

“While they are in your classes,” said Rose. “The semester is nearly over.”

 

“Rose,” said Rey.

 

“What?” said Rose. “I’m just saying.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from a lyric from "They Don't Know" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/they-dont-know/
> 
> I've had three readers helping me with this beast, including my husband, who was as surprised as I was that I was writing a romance novel. Even more fun, I had to explain shipping, fan fiction, and Reylo to him. We live in a 1bd apartment so he couldn't fail to notice that I was typing something constantly, and since he usually helps edit my non-fiction articles, he wondered what I was being so secretive about. I was afraid of a lot of eye-rolling, but he's been really supportive and even his cynical heart gave a thumbs-up to the cute-as-fuck ladder episode here. Sorry, not sorry. 
> 
> We have a few more chapters until our kids finally get a clue, but not much longer.


	13. You’re such a big boy on a Saturday night

Mid-December 2007

 

_The young man with blackbird wings pulled her closer._

_“You mustn’t touch anything, while you are here. Otherwise you won’t be permitted to ever leave.”_

_“What if I didn’t want to leave?” she asked._

_“Everyone wants to leave,” he said._

_They grew closer to a large stone structure, a castle. The young man drew her downward and they landed together on the roof. She looked around. It appeared to be abandoned._

_“Where are the knights? The people?”_

_“They are all off in the war.”_

_“What is the war about? Why are they fighting?” she asked._

_He shrugged. “It’s the war. One side wins. Then the other side wins. Then it starts again. The fairy king will never let it end.”_

_She followed him down a narrow stairway, to the middle of the building. They entered a large room, which appeared to be a darkened ballroom.  Up near the ceiling was a large clock, the time frozen at 11:59._

_There were tables and chairs, and plates with desiccated food on them, coats strewn around the furniture, and wine glasses tossed carelessly around the floor._

_“What happened here?”_

_“It’s the curse,” he said. “Nothing has been touched since my 13 th birthday. My parents threw a ball to celebrate and sent invitations to all in the kingdom. The fairy king arrived, but my parents had forgotten their promise to him. He watched me closely as I danced with each young maiden, and also when I demonstrated feats of power. My mother and father laughed and danced, and all were very happy.”  _

_“It was near midnight when the fairy king rose from his seat and tapped his wine glass. ‘It is time for me to leave, and the prince will leave with me. I will take him for my apprentice, as was promised. Or else he shall be cursed, and this land shall be cursed.’”_

_“There was great shouting, and my mother and father cried out the loudest. ‘No, you have no need of our son or his powers—there is peace in the kingdom.’”_

_“The fairy king grew up to a gigantic height in his rage, towering over all of the guests, and wicked lights played across his fingers. ‘If you do not hand over your son, I will plunge this kingdom into war. If you allow your son to be my apprentice, there will be peace in the land—you choose.’”_

_“My parents did not hesitate— ‘We choose our son! We are not afraid of you! We will defeat you!’”_

_“’The war is not with me, you fools. However, you have chosen.’”_

_“At that, the guests turned on each other, fighting as if they were strangers to each other.”_

_“’Your son shall live, but you will never see him again.’ bellowed the fairy king.”_

_“I felt a twisting of my limbs; my mind was seized with fear. All of my power did nothing. My arms shrank, and my body fell to the floor. I heard my mother scream, and she stretched out her hands to me.”_

_“’I curse your son with the form of a selkie. At the stroke of midnight, he will never again be seen in human form.’”_

_“In one last act, using power she scarcely knew she had, my mother stopped the clock from turning midnight. The fairy king said a foul word and spat. ‘Fine’, said the fairy king, ‘but while he remains in this form, the war will rage, and thousands shall die. If you can find how to lift this curse, the war will end, and your son will return.’”_

_“I knew nothing but the hunger and killing instinct of a selkie, and I longed for the water. I thrashed with my body out of the ballroom, out of the castle, and down to the ocean. My mother chased after me, trying to catch me. I couldn’t understand her cries.”_

_“Later my mother found me on the island and brought me the knife. She tried to explain what had happened. My mother had partially arrested the curse, by stopping the time. Slowly I recovered my speech. We found that for one day, the skin could be removed, and that I could unfurl wings and fly, then must return to the island, or else I will die.”_

_“But my mother had to return to the war, and it is not she, nor my father, who can lift the curse.”_

Rey heard birds chirping as she startled awake.  She’d slept later than she’d meant to. Today was the day of the opening for the student art show, and she needed to get ready. But she had a few hours until she had to leave.  The traffic would not be nearly as terrible on a Saturday. She felt an unaccustomed sense of peace and contentment.  Rey listened to the birds for another few minutes, and then heard Finn and Rose beginning to bustle in the kitchen. 

 

She bounced out of bed and found her robe and went to go join them.

 

“Are you excited or nervous for today?” asked Finn. Rey glanced at him over her teacup as he stirred the pancake batter with an innocent air.

 

“Why would I be excited or nervous?” asked Rey. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Everyone likes the art show, and all I have to do is drink wine and relax. My students are the ones who get nervous.”

 

Rose said, “Well, maybe this show is more, hmm, special?, for some reason.”

 

Rey gave her a quelling look, but Rose seemed unwilling to be quelled. She was grinning and making meaningful quirks with her eyebrows. Rey sighed.

 

“I can’t wait until this semester is over and you two get over this obsession,” she said.  They’d both dropped little hints all week about Ben, despite her protests that she simply had no interest in him that way, and that he’d certainly never been anything but courteous to her, as her student.

 

There was a knock at the door, and Rey jumped up, relieved for the interruption. Poe was also coming over for breakfast.  She greeted him at the door, and he hugged her despite lugging a large bag of fresh fruit. 

 

“My hero,” said Rey. “These lovebirds are trying to interfere with my life, please save me.” Poe glanced over to where the pair were placing pancakes on a platter, both trying to affect an injured air. 

 

“What gives?” asked Poe.

 

Finn said, “Well, you remember the student that Little Miss Professor was so concerned about a couple of months ago?”

 

“Finn,” said Rey.

 

“Well, it turns out that he also looks like a male model,” said Rose.

 

“Really?” said Poe, with interest. He looked at Rey. “You did not mention this.”

 

“NOT you too,” Rey hissed. She stomped off to go brush her teeth before breakfast. Some friends—they were not helping.

 

When she returned, all three gave her guilty looks.

 

“Poe, you know my feelings about this. You all know this!” Rey said.

 

They’d all been there for her to help pick up the pieces that freshman year, when the whispering campaign began at school, about what had happened with her and Hux. If it hadn’t been for her friends, she might have dropped out of school, or flunked all of her classes, or done something even worse.

 

If it wasn’t for them, she’d probably have never gotten over it. They helped her be brave, put on a mask that said “I dare you” if people tried to get in her face or slyly insinuate anything. She never took any special favors, she did everything on her own. Rey never asked for anything from that school more than strictly required, and as soon as she could, she applied to State for grad school and put it all behind her. It wasn’t as prestigious, but it was a fresh start.

 

Over the years she’d had to hear about Hux through the arts networks, and she scrupulously avoided pursuing opportunities where she might have to run into him or interact with him in any way. Rey never wanted anyone to think anything she achieved was because of his help or influence. He’d gotten his tenure right away at CSD, so she avoided the campus she used to love. There were other places to work and make art, and she’d stayed in her lane.

 

It took her longer to trust men again, and she never felt comfortable, like she couldn’t get really close to anyone. Who knew what anyone was capable of? The parts of her life she couldn’t control, she kept limited, and the parts she could control, she kept a firm grasp on. She could control her role as a professional, and that’s the way she liked it. Being a part-timer was humble, and not all that she was capable of, but it’s what she had, and she wanted to be the best she could be. That meant scrupulous boundaries, and not repeating Hux’s terrible behavior with her.

 

She couldn’t have his success, but at least she could be a better human being than him.

 

“You will always be a better human being than him,” said Poe, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “You are a caring person, and loyal, and kind and brave.” 

 

“I have to get ready,” said Rey. “Time to get dressed.” 

 

The nice thing about living in Southern California is that a person can wear a sundress in late December. Rey mostly had grubby clothes for teaching, and some business casual for her office job—but she had one nice vintage floral dress that she’d saved for the occasion today. She swept her hair up in a retro-looking bun, and applied cat-wing eyeliner and a little more mascara than usual.  A rust-colored cardigan went over the dress very nicely, and she found a pair of strappy Mary Janes with a low heel. Rey whirled in the mirror, and thought she looked nice. Her students would be amazed at her transformation from a charcoal-stained gremlin in welding pants to this. She put on her glasses and grabbed her purse.

 

Rey dashed out past Poe, Finn, and Rose. “Don’t be out late,” yelled Finn. “Remember to be home before curfew,” said Poe, “and we want to hear _all_ the details.” Rose was laughing.  Rey growled as she rooted for her car keys in her purse and ran faster.

 

She arrived at Niima about 30 minutes before the opening began, and headed to the division office, to get the wine and snacks that she’d been chilling out of the faculty workroom refrigerator.  She threw the wine into her tote bag, and carefully balanced a platter of cheese, cold cuts, and veggies, trying to not spill the dip. Niima Outpost was quiet on a Saturday, there was just a farmer’s market in the parking lot on the other side of campus today, and no classes. She’d stopped there to get a loaf of bread and some flowers on her way over to the Art Department.

 

She’d had to stuff everything into one tote bag, and she remembered that her other one was probably still in Ben’s trunk, from the day he’d had to take her home. In all of the confusion, she’d forgotten to ask him for it back. Hopefully he’d have it still in his car, and she could retrieve it today.

 

Rey opened up the funky little gallery and saw that facilities had already set up a long folding table. She dragged it around to near the back of the gallery, so people would look at the art before sucking down wine and food.  Since there were no classes today, that would cut down on the number of students using the opening merely as an opportunity to graze for free. She put out cups and started slicing the bread. The flowers went into a vase from the still-life closet and she went out to the bathroom to fill it with water.

 

The first person to show up was Maz, her Dean. “Well, this looks marvelous, as usual. Lovely work this year, Rey.” She peered up at the walls at the work that was much higher than her head, and carefully inspected all of the drawings with interest.  “You look nice too. This all looks nice,” Maz said. Rey poured her a glass of wine, and Maz smacked her lips, and selected some cheese and bread. “You always do a wonderful job, Rey. It’s a credit to the department.”

 

Rey beamed. “Thank you, Maz.” Maz took another turn around the gallery, looking thoughtful, peering at the names on the drawings. 

 

Suddenly she said, “Oh! You have Ben Solo in your class.”

 

Rey was startled, “Yes. Do you know him?”

 

“I know of him. Don’t you know who he is? His mo-“

 

Some of Rey’s students, with their friends and family in tow, appeared in the door of the gallery.

 

Maz murmured, “Some other time,” and she ambled over to help greet the visitors.

 

For an hour, Rey greeted students and talked to their proud families about how hard they’d worked and how much progress they’d made. Nearly all of her students were in attendance—but she couldn’t help noticing that Ben was missing. She felt a little pang of disappointment but squelched it. There were a million reasons to be running late. She poured herself another glass of wine and inhaled the atmosphere of artistic discussion and enthusiasm among the crowd. This was her day to enjoy.

 

She made another turn around the gallery, saying hello to some newcomers, and then realized she needed to use the restroom. Rey slipped out and went around the corner and saw some more people coming toward the gallery from a distance. They were getting a nice crowd.  In the bathroom, she freshened her lipstick and checked on her eyeliner. She hadn’t sweated it off yet. Her dress still looked crisp.  Satisfied, she returned again to the gallery. From the entryway she could see the newcomers--one man looked tall and dressed in black. As her eyes re-adjusted to the indoor light, she tried to not feel or look eager as she approached the group.

 

The man turned around at the sound of her steps. It was Hux.

 

“What. What are you doing here,” Rey said.

 

Hux said, “I was under the impression that these little community events were open to the public. Was I mistaken?”

 

“Of course,” Rey said, trying to recover. “Of course, they are. Welcome to our show.”

 

She felt a wave of dizziness, and her neck felt heated.  The other men with Hux peered at her curiously, members of his devoted entourage of digital boys. She needed to get herself under control.

 

“I’m Rey, the teacher for this class,” said Rey to the group.

 

“We know,” one of the men smirked.

 

Hux had a reptilian grin that he flashed for a moment, and then flattened away into a deceptively neutral expression. What was he up to?

 

Time for more wine. Hux and his friends followed her over to the refreshment table, and Rey said, “Please, have some food and wine, and enjoy the show.” 

 

Rey poured herself a fresh glass, and gritted her teeth as she sipped, barely tasting it. The pleasure of the afternoon seeped from her. The event was scheduled to last another hour, and she was going to experience every second of it as if time was a slow-moving drop of amber travelling down a tree-trunk. Maybe Hux and his buddies would get bored and leave soon.

 

In the perverse way that life has, it was her students who began to drift out, saying goodbye, while Hux and his friends lingered. Thankfully there were enough people there that Rey wasn’t stuck all alone with the entourage. But she began to hear more clearly what they were saying to each other.

 

“So pedestrian.”

 

“Well, what do you expect. Community college.”

 

“It’s like a recreation center, not like they make real art.”

 

“There’s never any culture at these places. Everyone just copies, there’s no originality.”

 

“She’d be teaching at a real college if she were really any good.”

 

“Does she even show anywhere?”

 

 Rey felt her eyes grow hot. She whirled on Hux, feeling her usual caution draining away.

 

“May I speak to you outside for a moment, please?” she asked.

 

Hux glanced at Rey smugly and nodded for her to go first. She trooped out the door of the gallery and walked a few feet away from the entryway, so her students couldn’t overhear the conversation.

 

“Are you quite done? I’m not sure why you needed to attend our event today, seeing as it is evidently beneath your station in life,” Rey said. “Why don’t you take your friends and go.” 

 

“Why Rey,” said Hux, “after all that we’ve meant to each other?”

 

“You must be joking,” said Rey.  “I want nothing to do with you. You know why.” 

 

“No, why, Rey?” asked Hux. “Why don’t you tell me.” His haughty and mocking demeanor was insufferable. Rey felt like she was that kid in college again.  Her back was against the wall, and he loomed over her. Rey realized that he’d been drinking more than the wine, probably before he’d arrived with his friends at her show. 

 

“You don’t belong here,” Rey said. “Why don’t you leave me alone. I leave you alone, I never talk to you, I never talk about you. You aren’t important.”

 

That seemed to pique Hux even more. “Yes, such a strange void in our communication. I should have liked to have gotten to know you _even better_ , little Rey.” 

 

Rey said, “Well, I had quite enough of you. I don’t even really know what happened that night, but you ruined my reputation anyway.” 

 

Hux opened his mouth to say something, probably even worse, when Rey heard someone say “Hello Hux. Didn’t know this was your scene.”

 

It was Ben.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from Big Boy on a Saturday Night: https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/big-boy-on-a-saturday-night/
> 
> Holy cliffhanger, Batman! One chapter this week, since I love pain. 
> 
> Milestone--the hit count on this story passed 1000 last week, and I want to thank anyone reading for making my week. I appreciate the comments and kudos too. I'm nearly to the end of writing this tale, and I can look back and see all the things I would have done differently, and putting it out there has been part of the learning curve, and a little scary. The support helps! Thank you again.


	14. I can’t forget all the tears that I cried

Mid-December 2007

 

 

The alarmed expression on Hux’s face made up for the previous few minutes of her distress, Rey thought. He looked like a goose had walked over his grave.

 

He recovered quickly and looked at Ben and then at Rey. “I didn’t think this was your scene either, Solo,” he sneered. 

 

“Little older than you usually like them, I’d think,” said Ben.

 

Rey coughed to interrupt before this got too personal. “Ben is my student, Hux. And Hux taught at my old school, Ben. How do you two know each other?”

 

“Military school,” said Ben. “We were both sent there when we were thirteen. Hux wasn’t there for very long though. Evidently it is possible to be too much of a sociopath even for the military.”

 

Hux snarled, “And did you tell her what you did to get sent there, Solo? I’m sure she’d enjoy hearing what her _student_ is capable of.” 

 

“No,” said Ben. “But since you do know what I’m capable of, maybe you should leave. Now.” 

 

Hux turned his nose up in the air. “Enjoy the little bitch. I’m sure you two deserve each other.”

 

Hux’s minions had since exited the gallery, the fun being gone without his presence egging them on. The pack moved away as one, back out toward the parking lot as the sun began to sink.

 

Rey stared at them with cold eyes as they disappeared, willing herself to not look at her student. What a mess. How much of that had he heard? She wanted to descend into the earth.

 

“Anyway,” Ben said. “My mother is here. I know she’d like to say hello to you, if you have a moment.”

 

Inside, Leia was talking to Maz. She’d brought more bottles of wine. “Leia, thank you. You shouldn’t have, this is wonderful.”

 

“It’s no problem. Wine is heart-healthy,” said Leia. She already had a glass and looked dazzling. “You’ve done wonders with my son’s art, Rey.  Apparently, you got him to identify and express a human emotion. I’m impressed.”

 

“Mother,” said Ben.

 

“His drawing is really coming along wonderfully, Leia. He’s an excellent student,” said Rey. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the show too.”

 

Maz chimed in, as some of the remaining students also gathered around Ben’s drawings. “These are very good, Ben. I like your choice of subject, and your technique works with the figures of the soldiers.”

 

The students murmured around Ben and some patted his shoulder, in congratulations.

 

Ben looked like he wanted to run away, but also looked pleased. “I was terrible when I started, so any improvement is due to a very patient instructor. I still have a long way to go.”

 

“I can tell you are a very caring and diligent teacher, Rey,” said Leia. “Someone should hire you full-time.” She looked at Maz. Maz looked away and Rey tried to laugh it off.

 

“Well, at least I have more free time this way. Tenure keeps you busy,” said Rey. “I have more time for my own art. Theoretically.”

 

“Maz and I want to look at the rest of the drawings again. See you in a bit,” said Leia.

 

“How does your mother know Maz?” asked Rey. “I don’t think Maz was here when Horticulture was offered.”

 

Ben looked vague. “My mother knows everyone. She gets around. Does some stuff in the arts.” 

 

“Oh, really?” said Rey, “like wha—”

 

“Hey, I have your tote-bag,” said Ben. “I forgot to give it to you the other night. Do you want it now?”

 

“Of course, is it in your car? I can come with you now and get it and put it in my car,” said Rey.

 

“No, that’s all right, it can wait until you are ready to leave. I just wanted to remember to tell you,” said Ben.

 

 _This conversation is awful,_ thought Rey. _He must have heard everything Hux and I said._

 

“What are you going to do next semester?” asked Rey. “Are you taking more art classes? You really should.”

 

“I’m taking photo class and a beginning film course. I didn’t see your name listed on the schedule of drawing classes,” said Ben.

 

“Well, I’m never listed. Part-timers get assigned as needed, and there is always a lot of last minute jockeying around. You never know what you’re going to get until the last minute,” said Rey. “My friend Poe Dameron teaches video though, you should look into his classes. His name will be listed, it’s an unusual offering that only he teaches.”

 

“Oh,” said Ben, “that’s cool, I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

Rey said, “You should try to keep drawing though. I know it isn’t as sexy as all the new media, but it does train the eye.”

 

Some other students came up to Rey to say goodbye and to thank her for the show. Ben drifted back toward his mother, perhaps to keep an eye on her with Maz. She seemed like she could be a loose cannon, though charming. Rey wondered what she did for a living.

 

There was a bit more gallery chatter with students, and then Leia came back to talk to Rey again. “I do think you have done wonders with that idiot boy of mine,” she said.

 

“Oh dear,” said Rey. “Well, I can’t take credit, he really had a good sense of direction, I just tried to get him to follow it. His work in film should be interesting.” 

 

Ben appeared again just at that moment. “Are we leaving, Mother? I have something for Rey in the car.”

 

“Go along, Ben. I’m just going to say goodbye to Maz. I’ll meet you out by the car,” said Leia. 

 

Rey followed Ben out to the parking lot, hoping the tension of the last hour would dissipate. The wine was draining out of her, and the strain of the day was grinding her down. She wished she could just hop in her car and leave, but she still needed to clean up and lock up the gallery.

 

Ben popped his trunk and extracted her tote-bag and handed it to her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, as she took hold of it.

 

“You shouldn’t mind Hux,” he said. “He’s a dick.”

 

“It’s, um, just a professional dispute,” said Rey. “It’s nothing really, you needn’t worry about it. I’m sorry you had to see that unpleasantness.”

 

Ben said, “You always say sorry, even when things aren’t your fault.”

 

He looked like he was about to say something else, when Leia appeared.

 

“Ready to go, Mom?” asked Ben. “Or was there some wine left that you forgot?”

 

“Ben,” said Leia. “Are you sure you aren’t leaving anything important here?”

 

Ben gave his mother a repressive glance, and then looked at Rey. “See you at finals. Thank you for the wonderful show.” 

 

“Thank you for all of your help,” said Rey. “See you at finals.”

 

***

 

Rey’s encounter with Hux had put a chill on the rest of the semester. Normally she enjoyed this part of the year, with crisp violet California winter skies, and long shadows. The colors were all more vivid than usual and would fill her with a spiritual sensation that she never felt at any other part of the year.

 

After the opening though, anxiety made her feel omens were everywhere, and she was eager to simply be done with finals, and to hunker down for the winter break, and get ready for Spring semester. She had enough money saved to pay rent and eat before she got her next paycheck for teaching at the end of January, if she was frugal. Her office at SJSU would be closed during the winter break, so she’d have a little break, even though it also meant no income from that job for the duration.

 

Rey couldn’t help thinking about what had prompted Hux to invade her event and to bait her. She was afraid to tell Rose, Finn, and Poe about his outrageous behavior that night. They were disappointed with her vague account of the opening, having wanted to hear all about Ben.  Her friends assumed from her reticence that things had gone poorly for their hopes and stopped dropping hints about him.

 

That was fine. She was uncomfortable with how much she was beginning to anticipate interacting with him. Rey had shoved away the inappropriate thoughts that he’d earlier inspired in her fantasy life--it was time to put all of that away in a box. It had been an odd semester, but things would be back to normal soon if she just focused.

 

The final for her class went without any incident. She’d assigned self-portraits in charcoal, done in the style of a fine artist of the students’ choosing, and discussing the assignments was very entertaining. The class also celebrated the end of the semester with a potluck, and her mood lightened in the general air of holiday gaiety.  Rey said goodbye at the door of her classroom as her students filed out, and they left. Ben had made no reference to the incident at the student show opening, and she bid him farewell just as sunnily as she did her other students. All was as it should be.

 

Rey was cleaning up the empty classroom and getting ready to lock up, when Maz entered.

 

“Hey,” said Maz, “Do you have a moment?” 

 

She looked uncomfortable. Rey felt a wave of panic. Had the exchange with Hux reached the ear of the department? Did Ben say something about the bad ladder and the incident while hanging the show? Did a student complain about something Rey said?

 

“Sure Maz,” Rey said, “What’s up?”

 

Maz sat down heavily on a sawhorse and gestured for Rey to sit down too.

 

“I have unwelcome news. It’s the economy, kiddo. The district asked for cuts, and of course, they want to cut first in the arts. We’ve had to make some tough decisions,” said Maz.

 

“Oh,” said Rey. She felt all of the blood running out of her brain and felt dizzy.

 

“Yes, I’m sorry,” said Maz. “You know we have to cut according to the contract, and you are one of the newer hires. When we get our funding restored, you’ll be at the top of my list to restore into a class assignment. You have enough seniority for that.”

 

Rey swallowed, trying to wet her throat enough to be able to talk without choking.

 

“Ok, thanks Maz, for letting me know,” said Rey. She was struggling not to cry. Rey knew better than to try to depend on anything stable in her life, but she’d allowed herself to get her hopes up about this job. She remembered Holdo asking if she’d heard anything about cuts at the college—she should have paid more attention.

 

“You can turn in your key to me now, and I’ll lock up for you,” said Maz. “Happy holidays, if you can.”

 

Rey stood up and tried to look brave. “You too, Maz. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

 

She collected her belongings and headed out for one last time to the Arts Department parking lot. Her car was sitting alone in the lot.  Rey put her bags into the backseat, and fumbled for her keys, which seemed loud in the silence of the expanse of empty asphalt. After a false start, her car choked to life, and she pulled away toward the endless freeway for home.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Leia’s remark about wine being “heart-healthy” is from Carrie Fisher’s appearance on 30 Rock. It just cracks me up. https://youtu.be/FCHZqT3mR5I
> 
>  
> 
> The “idiot boy” line is from one of Carrie’s interviews about The Last Jedi, I’m sure most have seen it, it was too fun not to use here. https://www.starwars.com/video/kylos-choice-lighting-the-spark-creating-the-space-battle-star-wars-the-last-jedi
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title is from “All the Tears That I Cried” https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/all-the-tears-that-i-cried/
> 
>  
> 
> Getting laid off at the holidays sucks--so I'm posting two chapters today, just so we aren't left on a downbeat.


	15. When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas eve

Late December 2007

 

This year the old gang was getting back together for a holiday celebration. Finn had contacted his cousin Pammich, Rey called Jessika, Holdo got in touch with Connix, and Poe was always around anyway. Rose invited her sister Paige, since she would be in town on vacation.

 

Pammich had a home a few blocks from Old Town Niima and offered to host Day Before Christmas Eve dinner on December 23rd.  Pammich and her girlfriend Tallie had bought the house a few years previously, but this was their first opportunity to have guests over for a real party.  Pammich and Tallie had hung up their spurs as rock musicians and had gone into a website design business together. Finn did some work for them occasionally. They attracted niche and hip alt-businesses that wanted a better crafted aesthetic than platforms like Blogger, etc. could provide. It proved to be very successful. 

 

Everyone decided that gifts should be secret Santa to cut down on expense, and the group agreed to share food costs, and drew up a list and divided it among the friends. That way no one person would be stuck with a heavier bill for entertainment.

 

Rey was in charge of snacks, which she thought she could just swing this year with her remaining leftover surplus savings, after rent and bills were taken care of.

 

Right after getting her layoff from NCC, Rey looked for seasonal work to start building up her bank account to fortify it against the upcoming hole in her employment. It was grating to not be able to do work that would look good on a resumé, but not being able to pay rent wasn’t a good look either. Finn and Rose were sympathetic to her work catastrophe, but they didn’t have budgets that could cover her part of the rent.

 

Rey applied to a chain bookstore in the commercial area of town, which only paid minimum wage, but offered a lot of hours for the holidays. It wouldn’t be enough to make up for the income lost from teaching, but it was something. The biggest shopping day was Christmas Eve, which Rey was scheduled to work, but she got the morning shift on the day of the party itself, so she’d be able to attend the whole event in the evening.

 

That meant she had to shop well in advance however, to make sure she got all the items on her list. The snacks she had in mind would keep for a few days, she wasn’t doing anything fancy and perishable like shrimp cocktail.  Her friends knew she lived on a cheese-toast based diet, and had comfortably left the provision of cheese, crackers, vegetables, and dip to Rey.

 

“Should I get taco bread?” she asked Rose sweetly. Rose glowered at her.

 

“I’d totally forgotten that abomination,” said Rose.

 

Rey decided to go shopping tomorrow after her early morning shift—she was scheduled to work the 5:00 am stocking shift, which meant her day would end at 1:30 pm with lunch. Plenty of time to avoid the crowds at the food co-op and get home before rush hour. She set her alarm for 3:00 am and went to bed right after the sun went down. 

The shattering pulse of the alarm ripped through Rey’s dreaming state, and for a moment she could barely remember her name. She slammed her hand down on the clock, so its clamor would not wake up her roommates. Groggily, she stumbled toward the shower, and got ready for work while half-awake. Rey would get free coffee at the cart at work, one of the rare perks of working at a chain that was pretentious enough to attempt to provide a café atmosphere.

 

The drive downtown was dark and dystopian—Rey was one of the few cars on the road. Streetlights beamed through the mist, illuminating grim puddles pooling from sprinklers timed to spray on corporate lawns all night. The office parks loomed without a sign of human presence. Rey’s car made ominous sounds.  _Don’t you dare, you fucker,_ she prayed. She just had to get through another month with this car, and maybe she’d have a little extra money saved up for auto work. Rey had a credit card for emergencies but didn’t want to use it until strictly necessary.

 

With a grinding of important-sounding car parts, Rey parked in the darkened bookstore parking lot, under a yellow streetlamp. There were a few other cars there, other fellow employees shambling out of their cars like zombies toward the big main entrance to wait for the manager to let them in. She felt self-conscious about being nine to ten years older than the people she worked with, but on mornings like this, everyone looked and felt about 1000 years old.

 

They all shivered together until the manager strolled up about five minutes late to open the door. She noticed the resentful glares on the faces around her and sniffed. The employees shot to the back of the store to clock in, while the manager made a note that on their cards that no one was actually late, so they wouldn’t get penalized. She seemed to think that made up for her being late, not realizing that standing outside in the cold waiting to work the worst shift was its own punishment.

 

Rey, somehow, had quickly ended up in charge of the children’s book section. Even though this job was a lot of work, for very low pay, she appreciated the small chance to at least work with picture books, and use her creativity assembling displays. The store gave her a free hand to decorate the end-caps, aside from one or two that needed promotional displays dictated by corporate.

 

First though, she needed to unpack about thirty boxes of that had been delivered to her section, preferably before the store opened at 8:30 am for holiday hours. She’d fortified herself with a Café Americano, her drug of choice these days. Rey had gone from being a strict drinker of only tea, to a seasoned black coffee addict in the space of a week on this job. She fueled up with a few passionate sips and brandished her box cutter at the first box. It was go-time.

 

Two hours later she’d unloaded all of the books and laid them out in the sections where they would be shelved. Since it was the holiday season, the boxes had been loaded with specialty items, kits and toys and beautiful illustrated classic books for children. Rey felt envious of the cherished children who would get such lovely things as gifts—at Christmas in foster care in England, she’d usually just get one generic wrapped toy and a Christmas cracker.

 

She tried to not ever think of her long-gone parents, and the lack of joyful holiday memories. Her foster parents reminded her many times that Rey was lucky she wasn’t out working a street corner like many other underage girls in Thatcher’s England, as happened in those years. She appreciated having a roof over her head, but her foster parents’ crisply unsentimental outlook did not substitute for a loving home.

 

Rey shook herself out of her reverie, brushing a darling, stuffed Velveteen Rabbit that came with a special edition of the book. One day, when she had some more money, she’d treat herself to a few toys.  In the meantime, she needed to get all of this merchandise off the floor and onto the shelves before the hundreds of sugar-fueled toddlers came shrieking through her section to nuke it from orbit.  It was amazing how destructive a cute small child could be in a very short amount of time.

 

After her first ten-minute break, Rey worked swiftly to shelve as many items as possible. She’d have another hour after the store opened to work in her section, but after that she was scheduled to work the register for a couple of hours before her lunch.

 

Miraculously, Rey managed to get nearly all of the books shelved in picture books, and the kid section. The young adult and teen sections were still unshelved, but older kids were not quite as destructive, so those books could wait until after her register shift. She stood and stretched her back and waved her arms to stretch them too, before heading to the front of the store to open her register. By then it was 9:30 am, and the crowds were already dense, the lines long. Rey rang up customers with a robotic speed and practiced sunniness, turning her mind off while chanting “Happy Holidays” to each customer. The tedium was broken occasionally by people who wanted gift wrapping, providing a nice change of pace. It was peaceful to get away from the scanning and ringing of the register and, instead, to measure, cut, and tape in silence for a minute or two. It was satisfying, oddly, to spend that extra time with some of the gifts, too.

 

After wrapping one particularly fancy watercolor painting kit, which she found herself surprisingly jealous over, she returned to the register to find herself face to face with her old painting teacher, Professor Mothma.

 

“Oh, hi,” said Rey, smiling. “Happy holidays. Nice to see you.” She hoped her teacher remembered her.

 

Mothma said, “I thought you were teaching? What are you doing working here?”

 

“Um, there were layoffs,” stammered Rey.

 

“Didn’t you go to grad school?” asked Mothma.

 

“Yes, I went to State,” answered Rey, feeling stung.

 

“You shouldn’t be working here,” said Mothma, “it’s a total waste of your abilities.”

 

Rey said, “Well, I’ve kind of gotten used to eating, and paying rent so—”

 

Mothma cut her off, “You should apply for a women’s painting residency in Costa Rica since you have some free time. It’s on my website, I did it two years ago during my sabbatical. You’d love it. It’s three months, and they pay you.”

 

“But my apartment, and roommates,” continued Rey.

 

“You can’t let that kind of thing stop you,” said Mothma. “Do things while you are still young.”

 

“Well, thanks, Professor,” said Rey. _Having tenure must suck out a part of people’s brains_ , Rey thought. “Your total is $183.76.” She began to bag up the art books and travel books her former professor was purchasing. Nice life if you could get it.

 

Mothma said, “Seriously, think about it. Don’t waste your life.”

 

Rey looked at the long line behind Mothma, customers shifting angrily at any delay in the line’s movement. “Happy holidays, and have a great day, thank you!” She stuck the receipt in one of the bags and slid them over the counter to Mothma.

 

“Next,” said Rey. 

 

***

 

Finally, Rey’s shift ended, and she punched out feeling slightly delirious. She’d fortified herself with another coffee at lunch and hoped that would get her through her shopping errand. Her car started up again, and she headed back toward the food co-op just outside of town, on the way back toward home.

 

The sun had come out, and Rey enjoyed the incongruous sparkle of tinsel wreaths shining in the California winter sunshine. She parked outside the store and grabbed her bags. She got a cart and pushed through the doors, ready for action.

 

Rey enjoyed cruising down the food aisles, dreaming dreams of full refrigerators, and tables heavy with food. Exotic snacks, the fancy bread, flatbread, taramousalata, caviar, candy from many lands, and the ability to buy any type of meat you wanted, when you wanted it. Someday she’d have a big kitchen. Her friends made fun of her for her cheese toast diet, but she loved all kinds of food. Rey just didn’t want to let her appetite develop false expectations.

 

She was in such a food euphoria, she grabbed five different kinds of crackers, eight kinds of cheese, several tubs of spreads and dip, and was filling up the cart with dipping vegetables. Rey was starting to grab several bags of fancy chips, when she stared into her cart and realized she was breaking her slim budget. She did a quick mental calculation and figured that she’d gone twice over the amount she could afford to spend.

 

Rey returned two bags of chips to the shelves, and started to backtrack to different aisles, to put things back. She put back four cheeses, pared back on the amount of vegetables, and then went back to the cracker section to sheepishly put two types back. 

 

She was slotting the crackers back where they belonged, trying to arrange them neatly, when she heard a cart behind her and shied away to get out of the way of the other shopper.

 

“Rey?”

 

Rey jumped out of the way as if she’d gotten shocked. She felt guilty, like she’d been shoplifting, like she used to do when she was a kid in England.

 

It was Ben Solo.

 

_Great,_ thought Rey. _Another stop on Humiliation Tour 2007_.

 

“Oh hi,” Rey squeaked. “What are you doing here?” His cart full of food made it pretty obvious what he was doing, and she wanted to disappear in embarrassment. How long had he been standing around watching her?

 

“I’m getting food,” Ben explained patiently. “How are you? Are you having a good break?” Rey took him in—he embodied a vestige of happier days in her life. He was wearing a plaid flannel, jeans, boots, and his hair was slightly messy. She wished she didn’t look like she’d been up since three am. Her life felt like a burnt-down candle.

 

“Sort of. I picked up some extra work for the holidays. I like to stay busy,” said Rey.

 

Ben said, “Well, that doesn’t give you much of a break before school starts again.”

 

Rey looked to the side. She might as well tell him. He’d be in classes at Niima after the break.

 

“My class got cut,” Rey said. “I won’t be teaching in the Spring.”

 

Ben frowned deeply. “What? How can they do that? You work so hard.”

 

Rey said, “It was a budget thing. I haven’t been there very long, and newer people are the first they cut.” Rey tried to not think of the jaded teacher who would no doubt be teaching her class in the Spring. He hated teaching beginners, but he’d been there for twenty years.

 

“What are you doing now?” asked Ben. “Will you get another class soon?”

 

“I’m working retail,” answered Rey. Lord knows she might run into him again where she worked, best to just come clean. She tried to not wince. “Hopefully when the budget stabilizes, my department will open up more drawing sections, and I’ll go back. My Dean said as much, when she told me she had to make cuts.” 

 

“Will you get a chance to do some artwork?” asked Ben. He really did look concerned.

 

“Oh, hopefully,” said Rey. “I’m going to have more time, for sure. I will miss my students though.”

 

“Well, I need to get going,” said Ben.

 

“Sure,” said Rey. She flapped a hand toward him, like she had all the leisure time in the world. “I just need to look at a few more things. I’m sure I’ll see you around again at NCC.”

 

He waved and moved off, and Rey sagged against her cart. Now she’d have to look like she was shopping for a few more minutes to make sure he was well away from the store and didn’t see that she hadn’t added anything to her cart. She wasn’t sure why she cared what he noticed, but she couldn’t help feeling judged. Rey pantomimed looking at items and frowning thoughtfully until she finally saw Ben leave through the store exit. 

 

Rey pushed her cart toward the check-out and smiled at the clerk. He rung up the contents of her cart, and Rey got out her debit card to pay. The clerk took her card and looked at it.

 

“Oh, this is actually an account order. You don’t need this,” he said.

 

“What?” asked Rey.

 

“Your name is on file on an account, that man who just left added your name to his household account,” he answered.

 

“There must be a misunderstanding,” said Rey.

 

“No, miss,” said the clerk. “Ben Solo was very clear. His family have had an account here for years.”

 

Rey returned her card to her wallet. “Are--are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” the clerk explained slowly. He obviously figured she was probably a new employee for the family and had missed some crucial instructions. “Anything you buy here is added to the account’s monthly bill. They should have explained this to you.”

 

“What name is it under,” asked Rey, “so I know what to say next time I am here?”

 

“Organa. Leia Organa,” said the clerk slowly, rolling his eyes.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from “Fairytale of New York” https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/other-peoples-songs/fairytale-of-new-york/
> 
> These poor awkward children. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, commenting, or leaving a kudo. I'm writing the last two chapters of this story this week and feeling melancholy about leaving this world behind. Maybe there will be a sequel? But first our hapless heroes need to meet again for real, which will be the next two chapters. What does fate have in store for them?


	16. I want so much to do so well

December 23rd and December 27th, 2007

 

“Rey, you should have invited him!”

 

Rey threw a sardonic side-glance at Holdo. She knew she probably shouldn’t have told the story about Ben and the co-op, but it was such a peculiar turn of events. She thought turning it into an amusing anecdote might put the episode into a box where she and all her friends could be entertained by Rey’s crazy life of adventure. 

 

Her friends had fussed a bit over her being short on work and worried about the money she’d spent on food for the party, until Rey began to feel self-conscious, and had related that her bill had actually been covered a few days ago by a mysterious benefactor, although she certainly did have the funds. That tantalizing bit of information had only resulted in Finn, Rose, and Poe taking turns worming the rest of the story out of her. Trying to turn it into an ad hoc _New Yorker_ story had back-fired.

 

“He left before I even knew what he’d done,” Rey explained, feeling a little exasperated.“And anyway, why would he want to go to a party with a woman he thought was so pathetic, he figured she needed help with basic nutritional aid.” Sometimes it was hard to feel like a real adult with her friends.

 

“And his mother is _the_ Leia Organa?” asked Poe. Rey shrank a bit smaller.

 

“Yes,” said Rey. “Imagine my delight. All this time I’ve been playing out the tragedy of my life in front of the biggest art donor in the greater San Junipero County area. The one with her name on the Art Department building. And her son.”

 

“Who is hot,” said Finn. “Don’t forget that part.”

 

Holdo raised her eyebrows. “Ah? You really should have asked him here!” Holdo had brought her new boyfriend, Ulysses Statura, and seemed to have hopped aboard the matchmaker train with a vengeance.

 

“Yes, I should totally have chased him out in the parking lot, sobbing on him gratefully like the little match girl. That would have been attractive,” answered Rey. “Anyway, his car was gone when I got out of the store.” She had actually looked, her heart thumping and a strange emotion trying to crack through her ribs.There was no sign of the Impala—Rey didn’t know whether to feel grateful for that, or crestfallen.

 

She’d probably never be able to shop in the co-op again.

 

Jessika said, “Maybe it was just his totally awkward and socially inappropriate way of trying to express concern, since you’d lost your job.”

 

“Well, I have no way of asking why, or even thanking him,” Rey said. “I don’t know where he lives or how to contact him.”

 

“Have you lost access to your online class rosters from last semester?” asked Poe. “If not, his email is probably on your list.”

 

“Poe,” said Rey. “That’s for school-related communications.”

 

“Well, technically, you no longer work for the school,” Poe returned. “What are they going to do? Fire you?”

 

“They could not hire me back if I use the system to do personal stuff,” said Rey. “They do run audits sometimes.”

 

Poe sighed. “You’d be a terrible spy. Copy his email and just send him a message using your personal email account.”

 

“Anyway,” said Rey. “How’s the cheese?” She headed to get another glass of wine. Fortunately, there was no shortage of that, the way this night was going.

 

***

 

_Maybe_ _I’ll just look,_ Rey thought _._ She’d probably already been locked out of the college website anyway. She was just doing research though, in case she ever did need a student email address. For a future class. When she was teaching again. Knowledge was important, right?

 

She stared at the Niima faculty log-in page for a full minute, her user name and password already typed into the fields.Her hand hovered over the mouse, the pointer placed on the enter button. Her armpits prickled a bit with nerves.

 

Rey took a deep breath and felt herself click the mouse.Her chest felt tight, anticipating a message informing her that her account had been deactivated. It was almost the new year, and surely there would have been a turn-over in preparation for the new semester.

 

The site puttered for a bit, and then the menu page resolved. <Faculty services—Roster—Select Semester>

 

She clicked down to <Fall 2007>.

 

Maybe he didn’t have an email address. Maybe there’d be nothing there but a name.

 

<Solo, Ben>

 

_Click._

 

soloben1st@gmail.com

 

Rey wrote the email address on a post-it note and stuck it on the edge of her laptop screen, and hastily closed out of her roster and the college website, as if running away from the scene of a crime. Her hands were shaking slightly. She went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. Rey had the place to herself today, her days off from the bookstore being in the middle of the week, when Finn and Rose were working. She took her water to the living room and stared outside the front window.

 

Weak winter light filtered through a rare overcast sky and there were no shadows, just a gray, flat landscape. The little strip of grass lining the walkway struggled to bring cheer to the atmosphere of bleak sameness.

 

Rey felt her spirits diminishing. She tried to shake off the decline in her mood. Maybe she’d read a book today.

 

She found herself in front of her laptop again, not sure how’d she’d gotten there. Her gmail was open, and she was clicking <New Message>.

 

Two hours later, she’d managed to craft a message that created a tone that balanced professional, friendly, and offhand. She’d erased several drafts that had been too long—too filled with curiosity, too emotional, and even one that explained her entire life story. No, she just wanted to thank him, but not seem weirdly needy about it. She might have him as a student again one day, and Rey was concerned about her misuse of his email information. But surely a simple message for this unusual circumstance wouldn’t hurt just once.

 

**Subject: Thank you for the other day—I still owe you coffee**

 

_Hello Ben,_

 

_Rey here. I’m sorry I’m using your personal email.I still had it on my roster, but I hope you won’t mind my using it for a brief note._

 

_I was touched by your gesture the other day at the food co-op, you really didn’t need to do that. I should pay you back, it was too kind of you. I also owe you coffee for the day you had to drive my car back home for me. If you have some time this week, I’m off tomorrow from work, or we could meet another time. I’m sure you are busy with the holiday season._

 

_I hope you are keeping up with your sketchbook._

 

_Regards,_

 

 

_Rey_

 

Her palms felt sweaty again when she hit <Send>.

 

_Get ahold of yourself._ Good time to read that book, and not stare at her email, refreshing, to see if there was any reply. It would probably take him awhile to check his email. Maybe he was the kind of person who only looked at it once a week or so anyway. Or never. Maybe it wasn’t even his personal email address, but one he just used for school. Anyway, it was just a thank you note. He might not even answer it. Rey had done her duty though.

 

Thank you notes were always the right thing to do.

 

***

 

Rey was in bed after dinner reading her book, when a flicker on her laptop caught her eye. Her gmail had refreshed and there was a new email at the top of the list.

 

**Re: Thank you for the other day—I still owe you coffee**

 

_Rey,_

 

_You really don’t owe me anything. It was my pleasure. You looked like you were shopping for an art opening, and I was just doing my part for the arts._

 

_I will take you up on coffee for risking my life in your hell-chariot. One thing, my car is in the shop, and I’m house-sitting, more or less. If you don’t mind meeting at the house, we could walk to a place I like near here. It’s kind of in a weird place, or I’d just meet you there, so it is better if you come to the house first. Tomorrow is fine. Just let me know._

 

_Nice to hear from you._

 

_Ben_

 

***

 

“Rey, he could be a serial killer. Or a date rapist. You can’t go to his house. That’s practically rule number one. I mean, you of all people…,” Rose trailed off.

 

Finn said, “I’ll drive you over later, so he knows that we know where you are and that you have a ride home.”

 

“Thanks Mom and Dad, I think it will be fine.” This earned her twin glowering expressions from her friends.

 

Rey said, ”I know what it sounds like, but he’s really not like that.” She realized she’d never explained what had happened the night of the school drawing show to Rose and Finn though, about how Ben had intervened when Hux had tried to bully her at the opening, or how they had known each other from military school and Ben apparently disliked him already for his behavior with women.

 

She recounted the story briefly, though she left out the odd part about Hux saying that Ben had done something to land him at military school.It was probably something silly like shoplifting, anyway.

 

“Wow, what the hell was Hux thinking? That’s disgusting,” said Finn.

 

Rose said, “That really seems like stalker behavior. You literally haven’t spoken to him for years. Maybe you should contact his school?”

 

Rey said, “Like always, it’s his word against mine.” She grimaced. “He has a gift.”

 

“Anyway, you guys have been in my stuff about Ben for weeks,” Rey teased. “Now you think he’s John Wayne Gacy?”

 

“You know we’re just worried about you,” said Finn. “I’m sure he’s nice, and you didn’t get any weird vibes off of him all semester, and he helped, but wasn’t _too_ helpful.”

 

Rose said, “Well, he seems to always be there in the nick of time. And you’ve had several non-creepy interactions with him.” Her misgivings seemed to soften. “I didn’t sense anything weird about him in the brief glimpse I got of him.”

 

“I’m giving you his address, so you’ll know where I am,” said Rey.

 

“I wish you had a cell phone,” said Finn.

 

“I’ll have my car, if things seem weird, I won’t even go in the house. I’ll come straight home before I turn into a pumpkin, I swear,” said Rey.“Anyway, it’s just coffee.”

 

***

 

_“Who can lift the curse?” asked Rey_

 

_The young man was thinking. “One of the conditions of the curse, is that I cannot give away the key to lifting the curse myself.”_

 

_“That isn’t fair,” said Rey._

 

_“Well, no.” said the young man. “That’s why it is called a curse.”_

 

_“I could go to the court of the fairy king and demand that he tell me,” said Rey._

 

_The young man seized her wrist. “No, you mustn’t. Who knows what he would do to you.”_

 

_“You underestimate me,” Rey said._

 

_The young man was silent. Then he spoke. “I must return to the island.”_

 

_He turned and prepared to fly away._

 

_“I will find you again,” called Rey._

 

_The young man answered, “I know.”_

 

_Rey turned and looked back at the castle, so dark and bereft of life. What could she do? Should she find the Princess? Look for clues in the castle? Hers had never been a life faced with large decisions, only the small cruel ones of survival._

 

_The time when she could forget all of this and leave it all behind her had already passed. Her feet crunched in the sand of the beach as she turned back toward the castle._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from "Am I Right?" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/am-i-right/
> 
> I waaass thinking of stretching this out for another week, just to be evil. But then I actually finished this whole story last week, and so we are all going to celebrate together. Yay! Go us!
> 
> I thought when I finished this would be the end of the whole business, but my brain had other ideas, so now I'm working on the sequel to this? Yes. Yes I am.


	17. Autumnsoupgirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NSFW, if you are unfortunate enough to be working on a Saturday. Just a warning. This story does have an E-tag on it. If you are just here for angsty adjunct struggles, some art lessons, and not for smut, you should skip this.

December 28th, 2007 mid-morning

 

Rey knocked on the front door of the address she’d been given by Ben, and waited, but there was no answer.  She hesitated, feeling her courage drain.She could run, hurry back to the car, start it up, and drive away, far away from this very silly idea.  

 

And then when she got home again, she could make tea, sit on the couch, and look at the overgrown strip of lawn outside her apartment front window for the rest of her life, get old, and then die.  

 

Steeling herself, she walked around the house and found the fence gate, which was slightly open.  She pushed it open, her knees feeling numb with trepidation.“Hello,” she called. 

 

“Hello!” said Ben.  He was there, sitting in a garden chair, next to an oval-shaped swimming pool, holding a book.  He took off his sunglasses and stood up, smiling.“Hey.” 

 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, maybe this is a bad time?” Rey said.  

 

“No, it’s not a bad time.  I’m just doing--this,” he gestured around the pool and the chair. “I’m not busy, I mean.  C’mon in.”He pointed to the chair next to his, “Come sit down. Good to see you.”

 

He sat back down, and Rey sighed out in relief, unaware she’d been holding her breath.  

 

“Would you like a beer?” said Ben.  

 

“Oh, that would be great.Wait, what time is it?” said Rey. “Never mind, yes, I would like a beer.” 

 

Ben rose again, and went toward the back entrance to the house, and disappeared through the French doors.  

 

Rey examined the backyard, which stretched out many yards seeming without stopping, with wild looking trees lining the edge of the property, and a small gazebo-like structure, made out of gray stone, placed right before the line of trees.The pool was lined with patches of wildflowers and herbs, with small stones to break up the arrangements of plants.Pots of wisteria and flowering vines dotted the platform behind the back of the house.  Red ivy crept up the house, trailing off like shrunken fingers toward the roof.A pagan mask of the Green Man peeked out from the ivy, hanging next to the French doors. 

 

Ben emerged from the house, with a small cooler of ice with bottles of beer chilling in it.  “I forgot to ask what kind you wanted, so I grabbed a few different ones.”Rey selected an amber, and Ben picked the same.  “Here,” he said, and popped the top off with a bottle opener on his key chain and handed it to Rey. 

 

“This is so lovely,” Rey said, looking around the yard. “Is this your house?”  

 

“No, it is actually my parents’ house, or actually, it’s my mother’s house, now.  I’m just staying here.” Ben paused, to drink a swig of beer, and to think.“After I got out of the military. I was living in town, I had an apartment. I was working for an engineering company. I was adulting. It just became--a lot.”  He looked subdued.“Anyway, mom offered to let me stay here, if I promised to enroll in school, and do something I actually wanted to do. You know the rest.”

 

Do I, thought Rey?

 

“No, that’s great,” Rey said. “It’s so wonderful to have the space to figure out what you love to do, and to have time to do it. That's what I loved about art school. That sounded pretentious.”

 

Ben laughed.  “I’m a grown man, living with my mom, I’m in no position to be judgmental.”   

 

“Well, I’m sure she appreciates having you around,” Rey said. “I never really had family, so I don’t know, but.”

 

“Oh, she’s not actually here much.  She travels a lot for work,” Ben said.  He noticed that Rey was almost done with her beer and motioned with an eyebrow.  “Ready for another one?” 

 

“Why not,” said Rey, feeling relaxed.  The smell of the pool water and the herbs was enchanting.  It felt so good to be surrounded by so much quiet and beautiful space, not crammed into a little box-like apartment.  

 

A large crow was prancing on the lawn, worrying at a stick with its beak, and croaking joyfully.  Rey wished she’d brought her sketchbook.It was a fairy-story garden.She remembered that Ben’s mom had been a Horticulture student—she must have done the landscaping. It had her eccentric personality. Leia must have spent more time here once long ago.

 

She noticed Ben was looking at her looking out into space.  Oh, dear, she was probably being boring.“What were you reading when I invaded your backyard?” asked Rey.  

 

“Oh, haha. Um.” Ben showed her the cover, which was emblazoned with heavy-looking armored men with blasters and rocket ships.  “I sometimes read complete trash, honestly. I hate to admit that to my college professor. You were probably expecting something smart. Or not--maybe you weren’t.”  He laughed. 

 

“Oh, god, I do too. Read trash, I mean. Really!” Rey said. “I was once reading a collection of fantasy stories on campus, and one of my classmates saw the cover and yelled ‘Oh Rey, sitting there reading her ROMANCE NOVEL’ at the top of his lungs.  It was a very small campus too. Lots of people heard. I hid my habit after that. I also read comic books. Fair warning.” 

 

“Tell me what your book is about?” Rey asked. Ben launched into an energetic description, looking more at ease.  She studied him from under her eyelashes and over the neck of her beer.He was very animated, and his face seemed younger and softer as he spoke, his voice getting a bit higher with enthusiasm.  Rey supplied questions when he seemed to run out of things to say, wanting to keep watching him talk.While he was talking, he was smiling, and it was making a funny little snag in her heart. 

 

_Where did that come from?_

 

“Well, I’m sure that was way more than you wanted to know about that,” Ben finished.  His description had lasted into both of their second beers.“Would you like to see the rest of the house?”  

 

“Oh, I’d love to,” Rey said and rose to follow him to the back entrance.  She couldn’t help but brush her hand into the thicket of red ivy on the wall as she passed it.  She hoped Ben didn’t notice that she was falling in love with his house.They both paused a moment, letting their eyes adjust to the indoors.  Rey noticed that much of the furniture was feminine, the colors pastels and grays.There were vases of flowers on tables, and various interesting and curious objects on all the surfaces in the room.  The art collection was also amazing, reflecting the taste of a serious collector.

 

“My mother likes to collect strange things.  And people.” Ben half-smiled. “But mainly strange objects.”  

 

“Oh Ben, this is great.  I would love to just sit in here or outside and draw,” Rey said. “You could,” Ben said, “You can come back anytime you want and just draw.”  Rey was mortified she’d invited herself to Leia Organa’s house.“Oh, that’s all right, you didn’t need to say that. I just meant, it’s so pretty and unusual.  Niima is so--cookie cutter. This is beautiful.” 

 

“Well here, let’s look at the rest,” Ben said.  “And if you have to use the bathroom, it’s through here,” he said, gesturing.  Rey followed him toward through another large room, toward a hallway.“Yes,” she said, to cover her ripple of embarrassment.  Ben pointed down the hallway, “It’s right at the end there, last door on the right.” 

 

Rey tried to not race away from him, walking face-forward, not moving her head to look at the rooms as she passed. What had gotten into her?  Two beers didn’t seem like enough to get silly on.She blamed the relaxing and warm weather, on top of earlier than usual alcohol consumption.However, her feeling of lightheadedness seemed purely emotional.  She splashed some water on her face, looking at herself in the mirror.Her eyes seemed a bit wild and overly huge. 

 

 _Relax_ , she thought.   _What is wrong with you?_  

 

She realized that her hands were tingling.  And that all she could think of was how Ben’s hair would feel under her hands.  

 

 _Breathe, breathe.  It’s just been years since you were with someone. The presence of a nice and very handsome man smiling at you for the first time in centuries should not make you as crazy as a little girl.  Calm the fuck down._ Rey tucked her hair behind her ears and got a hold of herself. 

 

 _Go look at the rest of this absurdly lovely house.  Bask in another of his achingly joyful smiles, go to coffee, and then go crawl home.  He hasn’t given the least sign he’s interested in you in that way.Plan your retreat and get some fucking dignity already_.

 

This little lecture helped rally her mind and clear her thoughts.  She exited the bathroom and stepped out into the hallway.There was no sign of Ben.  

 

Feeling braced and a little braver, Rey started back down the hall.  On her right, there was a open doorway.She peered inside, and realized it was a bedroom. Rey started to back away, but then the contents of the room caught her attention.  It was a boy’s room. 

 

The walls were covered in posters: Joy Division, Sisters of Mercy, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Kate Bush, _Star Wars_ , _Blade Runner_ , and smaller pictures torn out from magazines of motorcycles and cars.  The queen-sized bed had dark sheets, and the comforter was covered in characters from some animated series she couldn’t identify.  

 

There were toys and models on the many bookshelves, and a large-screen tv on a dresser, with some stuffed animals strewn around.  Rey’s eyes dropped to the floor and noticed the presence of a man’s sized shoes tucked slightly under the bed, and that the shirt on top of the bed was also adult-sized.  

 

Ben was sleeping in his old room.  

 

Rey was seized with a rush at the happy absurdity of it. It was kind of adorable.  It felt a little intimate and inappropriate to be gazing into the childhood room of her former student, but she drank in the details of his personal life while there was no one to stop her.  

 

Seized by another silly impulse, she half-whispered, “Ben, I’ve come to talk to you about your grade this semester.  As your teacher, I must tell you, I am very concerned about your future.” 

 

Rey felt, rather than heard, a step on the carpet right behind her.  

 

A feeling of being smothered by waves of absolute horror began to overtake her and she raised her hand to her mouth, trying to think about how to talk her way out of what Ben had obviously just overheard.  There was a long pause.

 

“If I don’t get my grade up this semester, Coach is going to kill me.”  Rey could hear a trace of a nervous tremor in his voice, covered by the veneer of slightly teasing masculine bravado.  

 

Moved by a rare and wild moment of courage, Rey stayed facing away from Ben, but raised her voice a notch.  “I do offer extra credit, but your grade is so low, you are going to have to do quite a lot of it to raise your scores.”  

 

Rey felt a brush of fingers on the back of her collar, trailing along her neckline, very gently.  A little hesitantly. The touch of someone who was prepared to back out if this was not what she intended.  Ben lowered his head to her ear and whispered in a huskier low tone, “Whatever you say. Just tell me what I need to do.”  

 

Conscious decision-making evaporated at that moment, and Rey felt for his other hand.  Ben threaded his fingers through hers, still behind her, and slowly dragged his thumb over the top of her own.  He lowered his head and she felt his lips on the side of her neck.She took a deep, shuddering breath.Rey took the hand he had held in hers and raised it to the top button on her blouse.  

 

Ben released her hand, and slowly unbuttoned the first button.He moved to the next button and undid that one too.His large hand slid under her blouse, fingers moving gently over the top of her bra, finding her nipple under the cloth.  He brushed it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and Rey could feel it spring up under his touch.He moved it deeper into the cloth, and a little faster, and she realized she was making a slight noise while breathing quickly. 

 

He was still kissing the side of her neck and moving his other hand to the front of her blouse, undoing the rest of the buttons as he went.  Rey moved her hands up to her collar and loosened the blouse from her shoulders.He moved both his hands away, so she could shrug off the garment.  It fell away to the floor, and it was then that Rey turned around to face Ben. 

 

His breath was slightly ragged, his face a combination of happiness and arousal. _Fuck it, I’m doing this_ , Rey thought, and brought his face down to bend toward hers.  Ben’s plush lips felt for her own, and pressed in deeper, kissing her with exploration, tasting one side of her mouth, and then gently, the other side.  She felt a little hum come from herself, and she pressed even harder into the kiss, reaching on her toes to feel for more of his mouth, pulling his neck closer.  

 

Ben walked her backwards while still kissing her, his breath coming faster.  The back of her legs felt the bed.Rey turned Ben around and pressed him down to sit on the edge of the bed, and then nudged her way in between his knees while she was standing.  Much better. 

 

She dipped down to his mouth, and placed her hands on his shoulders, inhaling the smell of his hair and warm neck, and feeling the soft cotton of his t-shirt on her fingers.  Rey moved her lips from his mouth to his jaw, enjoying the small growth of stubble, just barely on the surface of his face.Ben made a small low sound, and she moved toward his earlobe, teasing it with small pulling kisses.  Her hands drifted down the side of his arms, feeling the shift of his muscles under his sleeves.His own hands moved to her waist, brushing carefully up the sides of her, rubbing her back and pressing her closer.His denim-covered thighs closed in, holding her in place.  

 

Rey could feel how warm and wet she was getting.  She could sense his erection pressing against the front of her legs, and she felt excited and braver.  It had been so long since she’d had sex, she’d forgotten the anticipation of wondering what a new man’s cock would look and feel like.  Ben’s cock strained against the waistline of his jeans, also eager and hopeful to meet a new person, from the feel of it. 

 

Rey reached to the bottom of Ben’s t-shirt and pulled it upwards.  They broke their kiss, so Rey and Ben could finish removing his shirt.  Rey took in the sight of his chest, which was broad, muscled, and straining slightly from breathing hard.  She moved back into his embrace and bent again to kiss him. 

 

“Is this. Is this all right?” Ben asked, quietly.  She nodded against his face.“Yes,” Rey whispered.  She pressed against his shoulders, and he hitched himself back to get more of them on the bed, his long legs still hanging off the side of the bed frame.  She followed his body down, lying on his torso, placing her lips on the hollow of his throat, feeling his pulse with her kisses.Ben moved his hands to the fastening on her bra, unhooking it, and pulling it away from her.

 

Rey stood up again, and Ben moved up slightly to prop himself on his elbows to watch her.  She let her bra slide down her arms and dropped it. She unfastened her jeans, kicked off her shoes, and slid her jeans slowly down her thighs to remove them.  She heard Ben take off his shoes and his socks as she finished removing her pants.She crawled back on top of his body though, without waiting for him to take off his own, and only then realized she was crooning just slightly.  This seemed to drive him to fresh purpose, and he seized her waist and turned her over to lie on her back and moved her up, so her head was on a pillow. 

 

Ben turned and shifted himself between her knees, and bent his head very slowly, placing a kiss right above the band of her panties.  While he was kissing her there, he raised up his eyes to meet hers, his wide brown eyes hooded. 

 

She felt his hands stroke up the sides of her thighs and shuddered.  Ben opened his mouth and used his teeth to tug gently at the waistline of her panties, and she felt a fresh gush of desire and wetness from her cunt against the warm cloth.  His fingers crawled up underneath the sides of her underpants and felt their way into the hollows of her pelvis, leaving a warm trail of touches as he teasingly brought his fingers closer to her center.  Rey gasped. “Oh yes? Is this good,” Ben said softly into her. 

 

“Yes, yes.”  Ben pulled down her underwear, tugging them quickly, eagerly, away, and flung them toward her pants.  She looked up at him, gazing down on her wet curls between her legs, like a man lost at sea who had just found fresh water.  He nudged her thighs apart further, and bent down again, pressing his long nose into her curls and breathing her in.Rey gasped sharply, and placed her hands into his hair, feeling for his head, moving him downwards.  He kissed his way down still further, brushing the top of her clit ever so slightly, and placing lingering and gentle lips on her own.He kept his mouth just a breath away from her labia, moving teasingly, getting a little closer with every circling motion of his lips.  Rey hissed and ground her thighs, and his hands circled around her to grab hold of her ass.His fingers dug in, and Rey felt jolts of desire and sensation rushing into her.She felt Ben smile into her, nibbling just a few moments more, and then he placed his tongue against her folds.  

 

Rey felt her fingers grab his hair even harder.  What must he be thinking--she was panting like an animal and grabbing at him, pressing him in, trying to get him closer.  He felt her guiding him in, and he sucked and nibbled with more pressure, letting her show him where he felt the best.“More, more,” Rey whispered heatedly, rubbing her thighs against his head.  Her head crushed back into the pillow, and she heard herself emitting little cries.She gripped the sheets like she was hanging onto a ship in a storm at sea.

 

One of Ben’s hands snaked out from under her ass, and she felt him enter her pussy with one finger, and she moaned, suppressing a louder noise.  Awareness began to fall away--she was rushing and moving her pelvis with no conscious thought, simply grinding with desire.Electricity was building, and he seemed aware that she was close.  Another long finger pressed into her, stretching her so prettily and firmly she came completely undone at that moment, and she became aware of the sound of someone begging. It was her.

 

His tongue licked a little faster as he pressed in and curled both fingers against the walls of her cunt, and after several moments of this, Rey clamped down and hissed again, grasping his fingers with her walls as she exploded and came apart.  “Ben, Ben, my god, oh god, so good.”Shocks of her orgasm kept thrashing at her, and the sensation threatened to overwhelm her feelings.The wave crested again, and then she did scream, softly.He kissed the inside of her thighs, quieting her down, gently petting her, and humming with pleasure.  

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autumnsoupgirl is one of my favorite songs: https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/autumngirlsoup/
> 
> So, after I wrote the first chapter of this work, I realized that I was writing a ****ing book and not just a short story, so I skipped ahead and wrote some sex scenes to make sure I'd be able to, since I'd never written anything like that before. There's probably some things I'd do again a little differently if I'd written these in order--like I'm not sure how much, uh, *character development* is going on here, but hey, it was my first time. 
> 
> The next chapter is also pretty smutty, just fair warning. I'll wait to post that until next week, that way I'll have something else to look forward to all next week. 
> 
> Thank you again for comments, kudos, and reads. It is very appreciated. I was nervous writing a book, and then nervous about sharing it in a fandom I've been in for five minutes, so your support means a lot! I hope you all have a nice weekend. xo


	18. Don’t Come The Cowboy With Me, Sonny Jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW, with a depiction of a blow job, so scroll past down to the *** if you want to skip that.

December 28th, 2007, later that morning

 

 

Ben hitched himself up the side of her and laid an arm over the top of her head on the pillow.  He buried his nose into the side of her head, inhaling into her hair.Rey enjoyed the sensation of his gentle nuzzling, working inwards toward her neck and ear.  Her breathing was still heavy but slowing.His lips pressed against her ear.

 

“You are beautiful when you come,” Ben whispered. “I loved watching you.” Rey felt a fierce tug at her middle and suppressed a feeling of tears prickling in her eyes.  The urge to be self-deprecating was strong, but something about this moment was so precious, she fought it, and leaned into the moment.  She turned her head, meeting his eyes, which were full of lust.Rey kissed his eyelids, the bone under his eye, his upper lip--everywhere her lips landed was a new and fresh place worthy of tasting.

 

She reached for the waistband of his jeans and worked her hands toward the buttons.  His erection was still straining against his pants, and she paused in kissing him to look down and admire the look of his length pressing at a dramatic angle from inside the denim.  “What do we have here?” Rey whispered. 

 

“You don’t.  You don’t have to.  I mean, I don’t have any condoms here, I’m sorry, I mean, I don’t bring wom-”

 

“Shhh,” said Rey.  

 

Rey flexed her thumbs and popped the steel buttons out of their buttonholes, kissing his collarbone while feeling her way into the opening of his jeans.  Once his fastenings were loosened, she dragged his pants down his hips.Rey planted tiny kisses on his chest, as she pulled down against the denim, moving herself downwards also.  She broke away to get serious about getting his pants off.Ben lifted his hips off the bed to help, and she yanked them at last off of his ankles.“There,” she said, with an air of triumph.  “Now, back you go.” 

 

Ben exhaled largely with a slight hiss through his nose and pressed his head back into the pillow.  Rey surveyed her work. resting on her knees, drunk on a feeling of momentary power.A little bubble of perfect understanding flew between the two of them, not to be questioned for now.  Ben’s body was thick and substantial looking, his chest heaving a bit with anticipation.Dark gray boxers barely gave cover to the source of his suspense, and Rey was aware she was drawing the moment out, to maximize the pleasure seeing him for the first time would give to them both.  

 

Rey leaned down and rucked her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and Ben closed his eyes and inhaled.  She gave a wicked smile, and pulled them down teasingly, slowly revealing his cock, enjoying watching it emerge with an eager spring.  A small trail of hair leading down to his pubic bone caught her attention, and she leaned in further and pressed her mouth to it, dragging her lips down.  Ben groaned, arching his back.She pulled his underwear down further, and moved her kisses to his hip bones, leaving promising traces. 

 

She leaned back up to give his erection a better look.  It was really a beautiful cock.Rey could feel waves of warmth coming from it, and with that, a sharp clean smell of a spicy soap.  It was long, and wide. His hair was darker and thicker there, and silky.The head was cut, and a vein throbbed deliciously on the shaft, like it was beckoning to her.   

 

“Is this ok,” Rey breathed.  

 

“Christ,” said Ben. “Yes.” 

 

With that, Rey lowered her mouth to the head of Ben’s cock, grasping the shaft in her right hand.  She pressed her left hand into the curls and she heard his gasp as her wet and hot mouth encircled his head, and she smiled again.  Rey wet the area around the top of his shaft with her mouth, and then pressed her lips gently to the top of his head again.Ben made an indescribably filthy sound at that, and Rey felt a surge of pride.  

 

She worked her tongue under the head, feeling for that vein on his shaft, while flexing her hand around the remainder of his cock. His noises grew loud enough that she knew she’d found a good spot for now, and kept moving her tongue under the head, probing with interest.  Her own desire swelled again, as Ben hissed, and flexed his hips, straining, trying to not just stuff himself further into her small mouth.She moved her right hand on his cock faster, and gripped him tighter there, giving him more friction to work with.  

 

Rey pressed her right thumb upwards to meet her tongue under his head, massaging his cock, giving him a faster pace.  Ben thrust his hips upwards, fucking into her hand, while she licked and sucked the head of his cock.Rey could feel his orgasm beginning to swell under her fingers, and she began to move her hand and her mouth faster.  The juices of her mouth spilled over her fingers and onto his cock, making wet sounds in her hand that were perfect--they spurred her on to work him harder.Ben pumped into her, his fingers grasping her forearm.“God. I’m.”

 

She could feel the increased swelling in the head of his cock.  Rey leaned in further, and took in more of him into her mouth, feeling her way down with her tongue, and concentrating rubbing lower down his cock with her tight hand near his root.  Ben made a savage-sounding gasp and bucked wildly.With a bursting groan, he tightened under her, and then she felt his bones go loose.“Ohhh,” Ben cried, as he came, shaking.Rey sucked gently as he shot into her mouth, swallowing.  More small bursts came, and she tasted those too.She eased off the pressure as she felt him shuddering from too much sensation.She placed little wet kisses on the head of his cock, to show him that she was happy with the way they’d unmade him, feeling him shiver.

 

Ben collapsed back as if dead.  Rey crawled carefully up to his pillow and laid next to him, closing her eyes too.  She could feel Ben’s heart thumping through his ribs, and she placed her hand on his chest, moving over his ribcage, to feel where his heart was beating.  As his pulse slowed, Rey’s breathing deepened too, and in time, both Ben and Rey curled around each other and fell asleep.

 

***

 

“So, when were you going to mention that your mother is Leia Organa?”  Ben’s eyes flew open, he looked at Rey, and then looked slightly sheepish.

 

“I mean, her name is on a building where I work.”  Ben leaned over and kissed Rey’s ear, looking bemused and lost in thought.  “And a museum wing. And a gallery. And a major--”

 

“Yes,” said Ben. “I didn’t really think about it. How did you find out?”

 

 _Men_ , thought Rey.  “Well, the checker at the co-op happened to mention it in explaining your act of gallantry.  But I would have figured it out eventually, even if you hadn’t bought my food, since I happen to recognize that Basquiat painting in your living room and I also know who owns it. Also, a few people kept trying to mention it to me.”  

 

“Oh,” said Ben, “that makes sense.”

 

Ben kissed the tops of her breasts, lips brushing and lingering over the soft skin.

 

“I want to see you wearing a tight t-shirt, with the word ‘Foxy’ on it sewn on with sequins. Or maybe silver foil. I want everyone to see how beautiful you are.”

 

“Oh yeah?” said Rey. “What else?” She was intrigued. Her usual aesthetic could charitably be described as ‘bookish.’

 

“I want to see you in knee-high boots and bent over a desk. That beautiful pussy will be staring at me. I’m going to bend you over and—”

 

“Will I be wearing the t-shirt too?” asked Rey.

 

“Yes,” said Ben. “Just the t-shirt, and the boots. I’m going to hold your ass and look at it. I’m going to study it like an atlas.”

 

He was lining her neck with feather-light kisses and nuzzles. Then his mouth moved down her breasts again, toward her nipples. 

 

“And then what? What happens next?” asked Rey.

 

His fingers trailed along her arms, and down to her hands. Ben moved his kisses down her stomach, and then down to the tops of her thighs.

 

“I’m going to press my cock into your pussy, while I’m holding onto your ass. I’m going to watch you take it, you will be so perfect.”

 

“Are you sure?” Rey said primly, but gasping. “That doesn’t sound like me. I’m a nice schoolmarm.”

 

She heard Ben chuckle into her. “You are. That’s why it definitely sounds like you.” He nuzzled her legs apart again and hummed.

 

***

 

“We still haven’t had coffee,” said Rey. “You promised to show me your favorite place.”

 

Ben nibbled the side of her left breast. “That’s true, I did. And you promised me coffee. I’ll freshen up and we can go.” He grinned at her and pulled himself up and headed toward the bathroom. Rey collected her clothes from where they were strewn around the room and began to get dressed. She looked at the light outside and realized her friends might get worried.She finished dressing and then went to knock gently on the bathroom door.

 

“Ben, is it ok to use your phone? I just need to check in with my friends, they thought I would be home a little earlier.”

 

She heard Ben laugh a bit. “Of course, no problem. It’s in the kitchen.”

 

It was still before the time when Rose and Finn would come home, but she had Finn’s cell phone number. She dialed it and blessedly it went to voice mail.

 

“Finn, I’m just calling so you don’t worry if I’m not home when you get back from work. Coffee, hmm, went a little later than I thought. There isn’t any problem, but it might be dark when I come home. Don’t wait up. Hope your day is going well. See you.”

 

She hung up and then went to the kitchen sink to splash a little water on her face and drink some water. Ben came out to the kitchen, wearing a jacket over his t-shirt. He smiled at her and came over and gave her a brief hug.

 

“Ready? I think you’ll like this place,” he said.

 

“Lead on,” said Rey. They traipsed out the front door and down the long walkway, and past her car. Ben looked at her sideways and then took her hand, lacing his fingers into hers. Rey didn’t say anything but gave his fingers a brief squeeze back.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't Come The Cowboy With Me, Sonny Jim! https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/dont-come-the-cowboy-with-me-sonny-jim/
> 
> I want to thank my husband for playing the part of blocking the action in these scenes and making sure very seriously that everyone's parts were where they were supposed to be. He reads more for technical qualities than for emotional ones and the conversations we had about these chapters were funny--so any of the deficiencies in feeling are mine, but the grammar will be good and nobody's hands ends up in the wrong places. 
> 
> I was just going to post one chapter to round out the scenes at the house, but I realized it's kind of short and I like the next one, and I have no self-control, so...


	19. Us Amazonians

December 28th 2007 later that day

 

“When I was a kid, my bike lost control of the brakes and skidded down here,” Ben said, gesturing to a point in the street. “I went over the handlebars and split my chin open. We had a ramp set up and we were doing wheelies and jumps. Leia almost killed me.”

 

“And then she critiqued my form,” he added.

 

Rey laughed. “I’m not laughing at you.”

 

“Well, you are but it’s ok,” said Ben. “You’ve met her, you know what she’s like. She likes excitement.”

 

“How about you, do you like excitement?” asked Rey.

 

“I used to, but normal and uneventful is my new jam,” answered Ben, half-smiling.“With one exception.”

 

“Aw, that’s corny, Solo,” said Rey.

 

Ben raised an eyebrow. “I meant driving your car, of course. My entire life flashed in front of my eyes. I don’t know how you pilot that piece of junk every day and not get killed.”

 

“I employ skill and dispatch,” said Rey. “The Falcon and I have moved as one for years, she understands me. Maybe you just need a teacher.”

 

“Hmm, I wonder where I could find one?” said Ben.

 

“I don’t know Ben, I’ll keep an eye out for you and let you know if I find one,” Rey said. 

 

They both walked peacefully through the quiet old neighborhood where the Organa house was and up a hill past several more of the kind of houses that Rey secretly coveted. The yards were filled with wildflowers and herbs.Along the way, they passed a small park with stone benches and tables, a tennis court, and a large masonry fireplace. The park, called Naboo Park, was surrounded by tall knotted pines, almost hidden.

 

Ben, gesturing at the park, explained, “It’s too cold right now but, in the summer, there are musicians that come and play there, and we have cookouts.” Smiled at Rey, he added. “We could check it out, if you’re interested later.”

 

“I’d like that,” said Rey.

 

The hill got a fraction steeper, and the distance between houses grew further and further apart. Ben led the way, cutting through a fenced-in dirt path between two properties. The path wound its way to an even older neighborhood, with houses surrounded by crusted iron gates. There were very few street signs, and the sidewalk turned into gravel paths. Finally, Ben stopped outside a smaller house than the rest, with a discreet sign hanging on it. It was a peculiar image of a creature with the body of a lion and the head of a man. The carved craggy writing said “Manticore Books and Refreshments.” 

 

“I said it was hard to find. You kind of have to know where it is. Kenobi doesn’t advertise or have a listing in the phone book,” said Ben. “The neighbors hate this place. I love it.” 

 

“How did you find out about it?” asked Rey.

 

“I told you my mother collects strange people,” he said. “Kenobi is one of them. He’s a hermit. He’s in his 80’s now. His first name is Ben too, actually. They named me for him.” 

 

“Your parents named you after a reclusive hermit?” answered Rey. “That seems like kind of an odd decision.”

 

“Oh, the first of many. Believe me.” said Ben. “Here, we have to ring to get him to let us in.” 

 

He pressed a small brass button set into an ornate etched plate next to a door with crackling brown paint. There was a shattering ring from inside the house. Rey listened intently. She heard a shuffling sound and the click of a lock turning on the other side of the door.Instead of the goblin-like creature she was expecting, the face that appeared looked like it would fit in well in a production of Shakespeare in the Park. Ben Kenobi had white hair, alert blue eyes, and a lived-in looking goatee.However, he was wearing a brown bathrobe over his clothes, and beige slippers.

 

“Ah,” said Kenobi. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the prodigal son?”He opened the door wider and gestured to Rey and Ben to enter.

 

“And who is your friend, Ben?” asked Kenobi.

 

Ben said, “This is Rey. She was my drawing teacher this fall. She’s um, visiting, and I wanted to show her this place.”

 

“Ben helped me with a problem I was having with my car, and I promised him a cup of coffee,” Rey said to old Ben.

 

Kenobi raised his hairy eyebrows slightly and narrowed his eyes, a ghost of a smile appearing for a second and then disappearing.

 

“Well, I can certainly help with the last bit. I’ll start water. French press sound acceptable?” he asked.

 

Ben looked down his long nose at his namesake. “Thank you, that’s fine.”

 

Rey looked around the bookstore. Instead of being organized into aisles of shelves, in one large space, the rooms of the house had been preserved as is, and bookcases in each room were crammed with volumes. She spotted a wide wooden staircase, lacquered thick with old polish, which also had books stacked on the steps going up as far as she could see. There were crumbling star maps and scientific engravings in frames on the walls. Bare light bulbs hung from cords suspended from hooks in the ceiling, illuminating the space with golden light.

 

Kenobi had disappeared into a back passage behind a long counter which was on top of ancient looking flat-file drawers, which seemed to serve both as a table and as a sales counter.

 

“Can I look around?” Rey whispered. 

 

“Of course,” Ben said. “I’m going to look at some of the maps here in the files, Ben deals in rare ones and I want to see what new stuff he’s gotten.”

 

Each room had been arranged by section. Rey gravitated to one with a painted sign above the door that read “Science and Other Fictions.” There were large sofas and overstuffed chairs strewn along the walls in between the bookcases, and the walls were painted a warm indigo shade.There were glass-paned cabinet doors closed over the bookcases, but they were unlocked. Rey spotted a several titles right away that she couldn’t wait to look at. She pulled out a book with prints of patents from the last century, a volume of essays by Sir Francis Bacon, and a small edition of obscure household recipes for making your own ink. She hunkered down into the corner of the softest looking sofa and examined the treasures she had found.

 

 

It was only when she heard Ben come into the room, carefully carrying two mugs of coffee, that Rey realized how deeply lost she’d become in the books that she’d been exploring.

 

“What do you think? What did you find?” he asked.

 

Rey said, “I can’t believe this place. This is the most wonderful place in the world.”

 

“I’m glad you like it,” Ben smiled. She showed him the patent book she was looking at.

 

“Look at these, some of these inventions are surreal! The details are amazing. They look like contraptions from another planet,” Rey said.

 

Ben scooted over to her to look at the pictures more closely. They tutted together over some of the weirder designs while drinking coffee. Rey showed him the other two books she’d found. Ben was very interested in the one of ink recipes. 

 

“You could make your own ink out of stuff you can find today, and it would look like old manuscript ink.I would have loved this as a kid, I was into calligraphy for a while,” said Ben.

 

“No way,” said Rey. “What kind?”

 

Rey tried to imagine young Ben Solo hunched over a desk, illuminating his own manuscripts in a cramped hand. It wasn’t that hard to believe actually, it explained some of his difficulty loosening up when she was teaching him to draw.

 

“I did some with brushes, and I also had a lot of different pens. I carved some of my own pens. They didn’t always come out great, but I liked it,” answered Ben. He leaned against her side distractingly, trying to get a closer look at something involving oak galls. She pressed back encouragingly, enjoying his inviting warmth.

 

“And look at this,” said Rey. She showed him the book of Bacon essays. “I’ve never seen this outside of books on old books. It looks like a really old printing.” 

 

Ben looked at the spine and then inside the cover at the title page. He whistled when he saw the printing date. “It could be that old,” he said. “Who was Sir Francis Bacon?”

 

“He’s one of my favorites,” said Rey. “I read some of his essays in college, from the library. He was a scientist and writer. There are some people who think he was actually the author of Shakespeare’s plays.”

 

She saw Kenobi appear suddenly in the doorway. “Which is of course nonsense,” said old Ben. Rey nodded in agreement. Seemingly relieved, he looked up at the ceiling and recited “’Children sweeten labors, but they make misfortunes more bitter; they increase the cares of life, but they mitigate the remembrance of death.’ _Of Parents and Children_ , Sir Francis Bacon.”

 

Ben just said ”I don’t think I sweetened anyone’s labors as a child.” His voice held a trace of bitterness. “I’m glad I could help with the remembrance of death thing though, that sounds nice.” Old Ben appeared to ignore his remarks and held his hand out to Rey to see what books she’d found.

 

“Very astute choices,” Kenobi said. “Would you like to purchase them?” 

 

Rey flinched. There was no way in heaven she could afford even one of the books, even when she was more gainfully employed.

 

Old Ben looked at her face for a moment and said, “Why don’t I put these aside and you can think about it. No need to make up your mind today.”

 

“Oh, thank you,” said Rey, trying to sound like the type of person who might just stroll by some day and buy a few museum-quality books when the mood struck. “What do I owe you for the coffee?”

 

“It’s on the house. Would you both like to stay for dinner?” asked Kenobi.

 

“Actually,” said Ben, “I was thinking of a place I wanted to take Rey.” He turned to Rey, “If that’s all right. I forgot to ask you first, and I know you have work tomorrow and don’t want to stay out too late.” 

 

Rey smiled at Old Ben. “Maybe another time? I’d love to hear more about what Ben was like growing up.”

 

Ben said, “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

Kenobi smiled at Rey. “We will have a nice visit soon.” To Ben he said, “Thank you for bringing your friend to me to meet. Tell your mother I’ll call her soon.”

 

“I will when I see her,” said Ben. He stood up and brushed his hands across his shirt. Old Ben led them both to the front door and opened it for them and made a courtly little bow.

 

“Come see me again soon,” said Kenobi. “Have a nice time on your dinner date.”

 

Ben’s ears turned red. Rey said, “Thank you, we will,” and gave Kenobi a small wave as he closed the door.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Us Amazonians https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/us-amazonians/
> 
> I don't know if anyone checks out these links or not, but this song is very Reylo to me. I love the lyrics. It has a hut, fire, strongbad ladies, and a poor sad city boy who hates his life without the girl. 
> 
> This is one of those chapters I wrote with only a sketch of a plan, and suddenly, a wild Ben Kenobi appeared. I didn't put him in the tags since I wanted him to be as much a surprise to you as it was to me. I know Luke often takes on the role of the adopted father, but for some reason he just didn't pop up that way for me. 
> 
> Sir Francis Bacon's essays are online, so you don't have to pay a mint to read them. The one Old Ben quotes is here: http://www.literaturepage.com/read/francis-bacon-essays-15.html
> 
> This bookstore is based on one I used to go to in high school and early college--it was in a Victorian house, on a residential street just off of a shopping district. It was magical. I miss it so much. I was happy to see it manifest here in the story.


	20. You just haven’t earned it yet baby

December 28th 2007, evening

 

“He seems very nice,” she said to Ben. They walked back the way they had come, with Ben leading the way to the next destination.

 

“Oh, he is. He was actually one of my favorite adults in my life when I was a kid. This place was like a magical wizard cottage, and he’d tell me stories for hours. Old Ben served with my grandfather in World War Two. I never got to meet him, he died when my mom was still young,” Ben said. “But family can be embarrassing, they know all of the dumb things you did as a kid. You know?”

 

Rey coughed slightly. “No actually. I’m an orphan. I was raised by foster parents. We weren’t all that close. I don’t know anything about my real family.”

 

Ben said, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He looked distressed by his faux pas.

 

“I don’t tell a lot of people, there wasn’t any way for you to know, Ben. Don’t worry about it,” Rey said.

 

“So where did you grow up?” Ben asked. Rey told him about her early years in the orphan’s home for infants run by nuns. When she used to dream of her real parents walking in one day and telling everyone that their daughter had been lost and that they’d never rested until they found her.

 

“I watched the movie _Annie_ one year--and you know, some ideas just stick when you’re little,“ Rey confessed. “I thought any minute my parents would show up. Annie had a locket that supposedly her parents had given her, so they could recognize her, but I didn’t have anything like that, so I worried about that a lot. I screamed if anyone changed my hair or my favorite outfit.”

 

Rey said, “It was kind of a shock when I was sent to live with a new family. They were very strict. They kept a roof over my head, that was about it.” She shivered a bit thinking of eyes staring at her during meals, every crumb going to her mouth measured and examined. Long charged silences until she could escape to her room to draw in secret. The best day of her life had been the day she handed them back their key to the house and moved out. “The economy didn’t go very well after they adopted me, and food and extras were kind of short. I think they may have regretted taking me on.”

 

Ben was quiet for several minutes, digesting her story. “My parents just had a lot of expectations. I was good at things I liked, but I was in my own world for a lot of my childhood. Mom, you’ve met. She’s a go-getter and thought I should be busy, getting good grades, making lots of friends. Dad, he’s one of those power of positive thinking types. He gives corporate seminars on making deals, learning the rules for success. He wanted me to do that with him.” Ben shuddered. “We had a lot of fights about it.”

 

Rey wondered if this was why Ben had been shipped off to military school at a young age but didn’t feel ready to ask him about that if he wasn’t going to bring it up. 

 

Ben turned into a small street lined with shops and bistros. “We’re getting close, I promise. It’s not much further.”

 

The restaurant was a small Irish pub with tin ceilings and high-backed choir stall benches for seats. It was dark enough inside that Rey had to squint to make out the shapes as furniture.There were board games stacked at the bar for patrons to take to their tables to play while drinking. Ben handed her a menu and they went to a table near the back to sit down. Rey was enchanted by the décor, which was crammed with every conceivable object all over the walls to the point where the wallpaper was barely visible. She almost couldn’t concentrate enough to look over the menu. 

 

The waiter nodded at Ben and Rey when he brought over a basket of bread and butter. “Would you like to order something to drink to start?” Rey ordered an amber ale and Ben ordered an IPA. She tore into the bread, which had rosemary in it and slathered the slice with butter. She’d missed lunch and was famished. Hopefully Ben wasn’t one of those idiots who thought hungry women were unladylike, but she somehow doubted it. If he was, his illusions were about to be shattered. Rey inhaled her first slice of bread while looking over the menu.

 

Ben was also busy buttering bread and eating it hastily. They’d gotten a lot of exercise today.

 

“What do you like to eat here?” asked Rey. There were so many options, she could hardly pick. 

 

“I like the roast beef, or the shepherd’s pie. The Irish stew is delicious too. Anything with cow in it, I love though,” Ben said.He laughed and ran a hand through his hair self-consciously.

 

The waiter brought their beers over and Rey ordered Irish stew and Ben ordered shepherd’s pie.He went over to the bar and grabbed a pair of cups with dice; brought them back over to the table and taught her a dicing game he called liar’s dice. Rey got very competitive and Ben got a gleam in his eye trying to beat her luck and her lies. They were both laughing and out of breath by the time their food arrived.

 

“Let’s call it a draw,” Ben said.

 

“Whatever makes you feel better, Solo,” Rey chuckled.He didn’t seem to mind being beaten by a girl.

 

***

 

Once back at the Organa residence, Rey realized there was no way she could stretch out this day any further without being destroyed for work in the morning. Ben seemed to sense their day had to come to a close too and stopped with her at her car after their walk back from the restaurant.

 

“When is your next day off?” Ben asked. “I really want to see you again, in case that didn’t seem obvious.” He bent into her hair, kissing the top of her ear gently, and then pressing his lips down her jawline with small kisses.Rey leaned back against her car, and Ben pressed against her, enveloping her in his jacket, like folding her into bird wings. His warm lips nuzzled toward her lips, and she leaned into them urgently. She wished she didn’t have to leave. 

 

“I’m not off until next Thursday, I’m afraid. I go back to my office job in a few weeks and I can reduce the store hours, but for now I have to pick up as many hours as I can,” Rey said regretfully.

 

“Are you busy next Thursday?” Ben asked. “I’ll have my car out of the shop by then and I can come pick you up and we can do something.”

 

“That sounds delightful,” said Rey. “I had a wonderful time on our accidental date today.”

 

Ben said, “I don’t believe in accidents,” and kissed her again. His fingers trailed down her neck and traced her collar bones and Rey shivered.

 

Rey said, “If you don’t stop, I’m never going to get out of here, and your neighbors will see us and call the cops.”

 

“Fuck the neighbors,” he said, but he let her go and smiled. Rey got into her car and drove away, fizzing with elation. She was home so quickly, she barely remembered driving home.

 

Her spartan apartment building loomed in the darkness. She tried to hang on to the feelings of enchantment from her day, hoping it would not prove to have all been an illusion. Rey walked slowly up her walkway but sped up seeing the lights still on in the apartment. She hoped Finn and Rose hadn’t stayed up worried about her.

 

As soon as she opened the door Rose and Finn sprang upright on the couch.

 

“Where have you been young lady?” Finn laughed.

 

Rose said, “Oooh, you look like you had a _great_ cup of coffee. A really big one. We want all the details, we waited up.”

 

“Rose,” said Rey. And then she collapsed on the couch and laughed and laughed. “I have to go to bed now for work tomorrow,” she protested.

 

“Vee haf vays of making you talk,” said Finn. Rey gave in and regaled them with a slightly more PG-rated version of her day. Rose looked suspicious.

 

“There are some hours missing in there, but I’ll let it go, for now. I know you have to go to bed. Besides, we don’t want to shock Finn,” said Rose.“You can tell me when he’s not here.”

 

Finn said, “After all of these years, I’ve heard everything. I’m impossible to shock.”

 

“I’m going to bed,” Rey said. “Goodnight!” She gave an exaggerated yawn and stood up and fled to her room.As she undressed, she looked in her mirror. She just saw the old Rey, but squinted, trying to see the Rey who was brave and desirable. She tried to imagine what she’d look like in a t-shirt with the word “Foxy” on it. It wasn’t as hard to picture as she thought it might be. Ben seemed to appreciate and bring out a long-dormant facet to her that she’d assumed had gone away, or perhaps had never really existed. Small cold flakes of her loneliness felt like they were melting on contact with this new awareness.

 

Was it premature to allow herself to feel so much? A part of her wanted to stay safe and not give into a sense of enthusiastic anticipation. But it had been a long time since she’d felt anything but just an instinct to survive isolation.

 

Before she slept, one last thought drifted past.

 

She’d seen Ben’s scars for the first time today, and he’d never said a single word about them.

 

***

 

_She walked into the main gates of the castle and stood in a large courtyard, hesitating. The archways were dark and cold, and the way forward seemed unwelcoming._

 

_One small window was lit one floor up.She headed for a staircase and began to try to find if someone was in the room with the light._

 

_Finally, she saw a seam of golden light flickering around the frame of a closed doorway.The girl knocked and waited, but there was no answer. She opened the latch and inside there was a desk, with an lantern set on it. She approached the desk._

 

_There was a heavy paper packet on the desk addressed “To the Girl.”_

 

_She lifted it up and cracked the wax seal. A pen fell out onto the desk as she unfolded the creased sheet of vellum. The writing was blotted and messy, and there was a wine stain on the paper._

 

_‘My dear girl. We haven’t met, but if you are here, you are the girl I have been waiting for. If you are here, you have met my cursed son, and he has told you of the curse on our kingdom and our family._

 

_‘No one in our family can remove this curse. I have consulted all the books in our castle, everything I could find on ancient curses. I consulted all the records of our scribes, and the ancient texts._

 

_‘There is only one direction I can furnish you, dear child. You must go to the crossroads at the edge of the forest when the moon is at its highest. Once you are there, you must follow the directions of the one you meet there._

 

_‘Take this pen and the inkwell on the desk; they belonged to my son. They were a gift from our wisest scribe, keeper of the books, given on the occasion of my son’s nameday. They are said to be imbued with all the wisdom of our kingdom’s sagest thinkers._

 

_‘Please go quickly. You are my only hope.–The Princess’_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You just haven't earned it yet baby" is a cover of The Smiths song, https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/other-peoples-songs/you-just-havent-earned-it-yet-baby/
> 
> Another two chapters posted tonight--although, everyone will probably be watching SNL! I know I will be. My husband and I are roasting chicken for the occasion of Adam's hosting, and calling it porg, because we are bad people. xo


	21. A breath of wind stirs the surface of the lake

Mid-January 2008

 

 

Rey pulled off a strip of scotch tape and finished wrapping her gift for Ben at the book store. She was celebrating her final day on extended holiday hours, making use of her employee discount.It wasn’t a very extravagant gift, just the Dover Books edition of Goya’s _Disasters of War_. 

 

Ben had called her nearly every night since their accidental date, usually on the pretext of asking her something art-related for his film and photo classes at Niima, but then ended up being hours of talking about personal stuff. Spring semester had resumed, this time without Rey, who watched as academia muddled on without her. However, school starting for all the area schools meant that she could return to her office job at SJSU.Reducing her days at the bookstore down to three instead of five, along with two days a week at the office job, would be tight financially, but her schedule would have a little more stability. The temporary shuffling in her schedule, however, had meant difficulty in finding time to see Ben.

 

Once his Impala was out of the shop, he’d driven over a couple of times to pick her up at the apartment. His mother was back in town and at home. That, coupled with Finn and Rose playing chaperone at the apartment, ensured that their dates were quaintly chaste affairs. Ben and Rey hung out at coffee shops like a couple of lovelorn teenagers, holding hands under the table while reading or talking together. It was nice having a courtship, something Rey hadn’t had much of in her romantic past. However, there were limits to the erotic pleasures of hand-holding, and both Ben and Rey joked about their repressed Victorian-style liaisons.

 

Finally, an entire day off had emerged from the tangled yarn-ball of her life. A day off, and the day after that.

 

“Let us meet him,” hissed Rose.

 

“You did meet him,” said Rey.

 

“Spying on him from the apartment? Doesn’t count, Peanut,” answered Finn.

 

Rey breathed in and then out again. “Neither of you will be here. We’re hanging out on my day off. He’s picking me up in the morning.” _Thank the gods._  

 

“You can bring him in after you get back,” said Rose. “We need to give this our blessing.”

 

Rey tried not to blush. “I might not be coming back that night. I mean, I don’t have to go to work the next day.”

 

“Oooo, you’re blushing,” Finn crooned.

 

Rose shrieked. “Where are you going? Where’s he taking you?” 

 

“I don’t know,” said Rey. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise.” 

 

Ok, he had implied that overnight would be on the program. Ben had acted mysterious about their day, but he did finally admit that she might want to consider bringing a toothbrush. Just in case.

 

“What else do I need, Solo? A pair of wading boots? A blaster? Something to make a fire? Fishing equipment? My passport? A dress?”

 

Ben smiled, “I’d love to take you on the trip where you need all of those, but I think this time, a toothbrush, and just a dress if you want? Bring a coat and heavy socks though. And your sketchbook.” 

 

Rose said, “That means you definitely need to take a dress. A cute dress, not your work rags. And shave your legs. And maybe your cooch. Partway.”

 

“Yes, mom,” said Rey.

 

She packed her sketchbook, Ben’s gift, a dress, and some warm clothing. Also, she did shave a bit more than usual, and optimistically threw in her cutest underwear and bra into her bag. No harm in being prepared.

 

***

 

The Impala barreled east from Niima on a road that Rey was not familiar with.She and Ben had left town at seven am: she’d thrown her bag into the trunk and then flashed her sunglasses onto her face like Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” Ben gave her a cup of coffee from a local café, and a handed her into the passenger seat with a gallant flourish.

 

Ben had a camera bag wedged down on the passenger side which he tossed into the back seat after getting in behind the wheel.

 

“I have some homework to do for photo class, so I thought I’d double-dip a bit, I hope you don’t mind,” said Ben.

 

Rey laughed. “I’ve always admired your diligence as a student, Ben. Of course, I don’t mind.” 

 

Ben smiled. “Find us some music,” he said, gesturing to the box of tapes.

 

Rey bent down to fetch the box up to her lap and looked to see if there was something conducive to a lovely and mysterious road trip.There was a mixtape of oldies, starting with some Bo Diddley, so she selected that and put it in the tape player. _“I walk forty-seven miles of barbed wire--I use a cobra snake for a necktie…”_

 

Even though it was January, there was sunshine glowing on the rolling yellow California hills, and glinting off of the red iron veins of stone that cracked through the grasslands.Rey hummed along with the music and let her eyes fill with the color of the endless landscape, the scenes broken up by the occasional horse or cow. Sturdy oaks threw long purple shadows in the morning light. 

 

She felt Ben take a hold of her fingers of her left hand, which had been resting at her side between them on the seat. Rey smiled without looking at him and pressed her fingers further into his hand.Warmth gathered in her diaphragm and began to spread downwards. 

 

“You look so happy,” Ben said.

 

“I am,” Rey said, trying to not sound surprised about that. She felt happy, and beautiful.

 

She finally looked over at Ben, who was smiling widely, and leaning back relaxed and driving one-handed. He looked happy too. Rey hooked her thumb over his and gave it a tiny squeeze. 

 

***

 

Their first stop was at a craft wine and beer tasting room, where they also served snacks. Ben and Rey nudged their hips together at the counter, while Ben kept finding reasons to gently touch her lower back. It made reading the wine list and menu distracting, but Ben said they were there to find a bottle of wine to buy for “later,” which he was still being mysterious about. They split a tasting and found a peppery red that had them both purring in pleasure. 

 

They chowed down a few light snacks while the counter-person wrapped up their bottle to go. Ben put it in his trunk, and then they walked over the grounds of the property. There were a few rolling clouds in the watery blue sky, with sun peeking through. Ben grabbed his camera from the back of his car and strolled off to take some shots of the old building and some rusting equipment around the area, while Rey took her sketchbook and a drawing pen out of her purse and did some sketches. She snuck in a profile drawing of Ben while he was intent on focusing on something in the distance.The drawing got a little more involved than she’d intended, and she was making an adjustment to a line when she heard Ben’s feet crunching on the path near her. Rey hurriedly closed her book, so Ben couldn’t see what she’d been drawing.

 

“Ready to move on?” asked Ben. “I really think you’ll like the next place, and we want to be there for lunch.” 

 

“Ben, where are we going?” asked Rey.

 

Ben looked like he was suppressing a grin. “It’s a surprise—I want to see your face when you first see it.” 

 

Rey bit her lip—ordinarily she wasn’t fond of unexpected events, but Ben seemed excited by his plans for the day. She trusted he wasn’t going to make her do anything weird, she just had a hard time letting go of control.

 

“It’s a good surprise, nothing bad, I promise,” Ben said, seeing her expression.He brushed a hand up against her cheek and lowered himself down to look into her eyes.Rey closed her eyes and felt him lean in to feather kisses on her lips and face. She reached up around his shoulders and drew him in closer, inhaling the clean smell of his skin.

 

“If you keep doing that, we aren’t going to make it out of this field,” Rey said, breathing unevenly.

 

Ben murmured, “We can’t have that,” and pressed a kiss to her temple. Then he took her hand and they turned back toward the parking lot. Rey snuck her sketchbook back into her purse as they walked.

 

The next leg of their trip south took about an hour, as they snaked their way through the valley traffic. Eventually Ben began to merge over to exit the freeway when they neared Riverside.

 

_Riverside?_ When they got off the freeway, they passed nondescript office buildings and some old car lots. There were a few stucco mission-style buildings and some churches. Soon, Ben pulled up to a place that looked like an ordinary taqueria and parked. Rey read the sign—Tio’s Tacos, and then looked up. There were two huge statues on the roof, which looked like they’d been made out of scavenged materials into some cool folk art.

 

“Wow, that is neat,” said Rey.

 

Ben grinned and went around to help her out of her car seat and grabbed his camera from the back. Inside the restaurant, there were mosaics on the floor and embedded in the tables—it was a riot of color. They went up and ordered at the counter, got a number to put down when they were seated, and then went to go get their drinks.

 

“Let’s sit outside,” said Ben and Rey nodded. He led her out toward the back—where Rey blinked in the light outside and was stunned into immobility.

 

The entire back area was an insane medley of giant folk art. There were statues, structures, vehicles, mosaics all over the walkways, and paintings. Even the other smaller buildings in the back were covered with art, sculptures, and pictures. Everything had been built out of recycled and found materials, and there wasn’t an inch that wasn’t encrusted with -something.

 

“Do you like it?” asked Ben, and then he saw her face. “Ah, you do.”He looked pleased with himself at his surprise.

 

“It’s gorgeous!” Rey exclaimed.

 

“We have awhile until food comes, this place is crazy at lunch,” Ben said. “Go ahead and look around.” Soon however, he was guiding her to his favorite pieces: a life-size painted cut-out of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, a real chapel, a teepee shaped structure, and a grove of skeletons arranged like giant Day of the Dead dioramas. He took her picture next to a figure that had been fashioned out of a repurposed Halloween costume of C-3PO. She took a picture of Ben vamping dramatically next to a giant skull. 

 

Afterward they slurped down on juicy agua frescas and emitted cries of joy when their food finally arrived. Plates of delectable tacos steamed cheerfully, and Ben distributed the different kinds of salsa around the table in an equitable fashion.When eating tacos properly, it is impossible to carry on a conversation, so they both chomped away in peaceful silence. Rich meaty juice threatened to spill everywhere along with the inevitable drips of salsa, several napkins were needed before they were finished. Ben and Rey surveyed the beautiful wreckage of the table after they were done, then Ben collected the plates onto their tray and bussed the table.

 

Rey took one last turn around the sculpture garden, trying to commit as much as possible to memory. Even sketches couldn’t do it justice. There was just too much to look at.

 

Ben returned to her and took her hand. “We have one more place to go where we stop for the day and I want to head there before the sun goes down.”

 

“I’m ready,” said Rey.

 

And with that they got back into the car and headed east, toward the mountains. The afternoon sun was starting to tilt the shadows again.As they got closer to the mountains, she began to see a dusting of white powder on the ground.

 

“Snow!” Rey exclaimed. “We’re going to see the snow?”

 

Ben said, “I hope you don’t mind some cold. I checked, it’s not storming up there, but there’s definitely snow.” 

 

Rey hadn’t seen snow since leaving England, and her experience was mostly with slushy city snow. The wonderland vista of snow-covered branches was enchanting. The sun flashed off of banks of white that got denser as they climbed higher into the mountain.

 

A series of switchbacks through the forest led them eventually to a little village, where Ben pulled up in front of a rustic-looking structure. There was a scattering of smaller cabins spread out at a distance from the main building, with paths cut into the snow leading to each.

 

Ben crooked at eyebrow at Rey, “How does this look?”

 

Rey felt excitement rising. “Are we stopping here?”

 

“Yes,” answered Ben. “I got one of the cabins for us, I hope that’s ok. I like coming here when things get to be too much, and I just want quiet.” 

 

Rey whispered, “This is beautiful.” She leaned over and squeezed the top of his thigh and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

 

They checked in and then dropped their bags off in the cabin. The structure was built out of logs, but snugly insulated, and there was a large stone fireplace in the center of one wall.A huge bed, also built out of logs, dominated the room. It was covered tautly with a crisp Pendleton wool blanket. There was a small refrigerator and a kitchenette. Antlers and homey-looking art decorated the room.

 

“I’m going to go to the store for a few supplies; you can change into warmer clothes, and when I get back, we can explore. We have reservations for 7:30, but we should have time to hang out and then change before dinner,” said Ben. He jingled his cars keys and hurried out to give Rey some privacy. 

 

Thirty minutes later he returned with a paper sack from the market, and put eggs, bacon, coffee, juice, and bread away in the kitchen. Rey was dressed in jeans, a sweater, and her heavy coat. She was eager to be out in the snow.

 

Ben shrugged into a long black wool coat, and then extended his hand toward her. Rey grasped his hand, and he tucked it into his pocket. Then they both dashed together, laughing, out the door and into the forest, shining in the fading light, sparkling with piled snow.

 

Ben said, “Race you,” and suddenly broke into a sprint across a small field and toward a stand of tall pine trees.Rey broke into a run after him, cold air pouring into her lungs, making her breath come short. The back of his black coat disappeared but she could follow his footsteps easily in the snow. She slowed down to save her energy and followed the path he’d cut through the trees. Rey was intent on picking out his footprints, which had suddenly gotten shorter in distance and had rounded around a large rock. 

 

_Phoosh!_ A snowball hit her in the side of her neck.

 

“Whargh!” exclaimed Rey. Ben was watching her with mischief brimming in his eyes, another snowball in his right hand. He wound up, ready to let it fly.

 

“OH REALLY!?” yelled Rey. She ran backwards for several yards to get out of range. Once she was back around the rock Ben was using as a blind, she trotted as quickly as she could to a large pile of snow on top of a hillock. Once there she hurried, packing snowballs as rapidly as possible. _Bastard,_ she thought _. He’ll pay for this._ Melting snow from his first hit was dripping down her collar.

 

Rey hunkered down to wait in silence, concealed behind the hillock. She was good at waiting. Her breath was heaving, pale in the cold air with vapor, and she tried to still her sounds, so she wouldn’t give away her position.After about five minutes, she heard Ben call “Rey?”

 

She snickered quietly and didn’t answer. “Rey?” he called again. She heard his steps crackle through the snow in the silence of the forest. The light was beginning to dim as the sun started to go down. Rey picked up snowballs in both hands.

 

Ben cautiously emerged from behind his rock.He looked concerned. “Rey, are you hurt? I’m sorry--can you hear me?” _Closer, closer, that’s it_ , thought Rey.At last he approached within twenty feet of her cover. Rey popped up and emitted a blood-curdling yell and fired both snowballs at his head as hard as she could throw them. She didn’t wait to see if they’d hit him, but picked up two more, tossing volley after volley.Ben was gasping with shock, and she thought she heard him laughing. He was trying to run toward her, but she kept buffeting him with snowballs as long as she could before he closed the distance to her position of advantage on the high ground. She felt a huge hand around her ankle and she shrieked as she was pulled down.

 

Ben dragged her on top of him as she dropped, to cushion her fall, and he emitted a short _oof_ of breath as it was knocked out of him when she landed.Rey was about to scold him for his dirty tricks when he pulled her head down to his and kissed her deeply with cold lips and breath.His hand snaked through her hair around to the back of her neck and she put her cold hands on the side of his head and threaded her way through his hair. She pressed deeply into his kiss to distract him and then pressed her freezing fingers against his ears.

 

“Argh!” Ben cried under her lips, and he tried to shift her. Rey braced herself, so he couldn’t budge.

 

_“Suffer,”_ Rey whispered and kissed him again, delving with her tongue between his teeth.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song "Roman Gardens" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/roman-gardens/
> 
> I haven't been to the places written about in this chapter. In researching interesting places to go, it was crazy how many had Star Wars references. There is a wine tasting place that influences the one I wrote about that has a beer named after the Imperial army, and the taco place really does have a sculpture created out of parts of a C-3PO costume, seen in a video posted on their website.
> 
> I think Star Wars is just in the DNA of California now. 
> 
> The next few chapters after this are rather tooth-rotting, but I wanted them to be happy after so much time. Of course, this being a story with Rey and Ben Solo, all will not stay calm for long...
> 
> Have a nice weekend, and thank you for the kudos, comments, and for reading. xo


	22. The End of a Perfect Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, nsfw smut, & some revelations.

Mid-January 2008

 

As it was, they had just enough time to change in order to get to dinner on time. Rey let down her hair and brushed it, refreshed her make-up, and then changed into her dress while Ben showered.She pretended to read while he changed into his suit, sneaking little glimpses at his transformation, like taking sips of wine. Everyday Ben was quite good-looking but dressed-up Ben was a revelation. He seemed tightly coiled under his jacket.Rey was grateful she’d thought to pack nice underthings for her outfit tonight. She almost wished they could skip dinner.

 

Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold weather outside.

 

Ben wrapped her into her coat and escorted her outside to the car.“It’s a short distance, but it would be a miserable walk in the cold. The car will warm up quickly.” 

 

Rey didn’t care, she felt warmer now already. 

 

It was a short drive, and they pulled up to another rustic looking building with exposed log construction.Inside it looked like a Bavarian hunting lodge, with whimsical logs and branches serving as beams.

 

“I know this looks kind of elderly, but the food is good,” Ben whispered.

 

“How often do you come up here?” Rey asked.

 

“A few times a year,” Ben answered. “My dad used to bring me up here when I was younger.It’s kind of kitschy, but it’s still my favorite place. It’s so peaceful, and I have good memories of here.”

 

Dinner was good, the wine was excellent, and soon Rey felt languid and rested. She couldn’t wait to get back to the cabin to relax and be alone with Ben. He seemed to sense the same thing and signaled for the check. They headed back to their cabin. Ben opened the bottle of wine they’d picked up earlier in the day and poured two glasses and handed one to Rey.

 

Rey relaxed on the overstuffed loveseat and watched while Ben fed firewood into the fireplace and got a fire going. He took off his shoes and curled up with Rey, watching the fire build.Snowflakes ticked on the windows outside. It was so quiet, Rey felt like they were the last humans on earth. Ben sighed and laid down his head on her lap, and Rey stroked his hair.

 

“Being up here is one of the few things that makes me feel like a person,” Ben said. “I like that you are here with me.”

 

Rey pressed her fingers gently around his neck and ears, feeling his pleasure at being touched. “Why wouldn’t you feel like a person?” asked Rey.

 

Ben was quiet a moment. “I told you things were kind of difficult with me and my family when I was younger. They sent me away when I was thirteen. I was pissed off all of the time then. I didn’t have many friends, and I only really trusted Old Ben.”

 

“I fell in with some shitty friends and started doing little piddly shit. Dealing weed. Shoplifting. Rich boy crimes. I never got caught, until one day I bit off more than I could chew. I helped my friends try to steal a car. It was just for a joyride. A Bentley, we were idiots,” Ben said. “I was the only minor, so when we got caught trying to steal it, they all ran off and left me there.”

 

“The car belonged to an old rich man—he knew who I was, who my family was,” said Ben. “He chose not to press charges, but in return, he—made me do things. He told me if I didn’t do what he said, he’d tell my parents.”

 

“What kind of things?” Rey whispered.

 

“He was blackmailing people. He’d tell me what house to go to, and I’d do--things. The old man had someone taking pictures. So, it was blackmail for me too. I was just a stupid kid. He had me convinced for that everything I did would refine and purify me on some kind of bullshit spiritual path to the real purpose of life. He had me twisted.”

 

“Ben,” said Rey.

 

“Old Ben finally got the whole story out of me. He said I was acting weird. I cried all over him, snot everywhere,” Ben said. “I begged him to not tell my parents. The old man told me he’d send the pictures to my folks in a heartbeat.”

 

“Ben promised me, on the condition that I would do whatever he told me I had to do to fix this. Then he called my parents, told them I was having school problems, and had told him I would benefit from a more structured environment, away from Niima.”

 

“They tried to get more detail out of him, but he wouldn’t budge. They were pissed. But then they decided that they’d send me to a military school that my Uncle Luke runs. It was a boot camp for teenagers. Cold showers at four in the morning helps refocus your mind. I didn’t have time to dwell much on my problems.”

 

“I was there until I was eighteen,” said Ben. “I met Hux there. Who you know.”

 

Rey said, “Yes. I’ll tell you how, but later.” She was rubbing his shoulders.

 

“I went to college for a few years,” said Ben. “After that. But I still had a lot of stuff going on in my head. I just wanted to bury myself. I enlisted in the Marines a year before graduation. My mother was pissed. She said at least I could have done officers training, but that didn’t seem gritty enough.”

 

“War changes you. I’ve seen things--in Kosovo, Bosnia, Iraq. Life becomes simple. Stay alive, do what you’re told, keep your buddies alive. Everything else gets smaller, until you don’t notice what you don’t notice anymore. Not until you get back.”

 

“When I was discharged, I had to notice things again. I would look in a mirror, but the person looking back wasn’t me anymore. It was like seeing a dotted outline where a human used to be.”

 

Ben got quiet again and continued looking into the fire.

 

Rey bent over to Ben’s ear and whispered, “Take me to bed, Ben.”

 

He stood up slowly, as if drugged, and Rey stood up too. Ben gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her hair. She tugged him over toward the bed and started to undo his top shirt buttons. He stroked the sides of her face, and kissed her forehead, eyebrows, and eyelids as she finished with his buttons. Ben removed his shirt, and then motioned for Rey to turn around. He unlatched the hook at the neck of her dress and slowly unzipped it.He kissed her shoulders and her neck, and murmured, “So beautiful.”

 

Rey’s dress slid down her hips and dropped to the floor around her feet. She climbed onto the bed and turned around to face Ben. She undid his belt and slid it out of the belt-loops and let it fall to the floor. Ben pet her hair, her shoulders, and her neck, while she undid his trousers. The top of his erection was straining away the elastic from inside his gray boxer briefs and she let her hand brush him. Rey bent down and kissed his exposed tip, feeling the warmth of his body radiating toward her.

 

He placed his hand under her chin and raised her up for a hungry kiss, pressing his body against her, and moving her back to lay on the bed.Rey dragged the blanket and sheets down, so they could both get under the covers, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

 

Ben placed kisses on her neck, and worked down toward the top of her breasts, nuzzling the edge of her lacy bra. She could feel his lips and chin pressing against the embroidery, and she had the sensation of flashbulbs going off under her skin. Rey rocked her hips against him, as Ben’s lips found her nipple through her bra and made it come up to a peak with his lips.He sucked gently through the fabric, and Rey pressed his head against her, wanting him to pull harder with his mouth. Ben mouthed her entire nipple and pressed down hard with his lips and Rey gasped loudly. She could feel the moisture through the cloth of her bra, and the sensation short-circuited her brain.

 

Rey dragged her pelvis against his boxers, seeking his cock, craving pressure against her aching cunt. Ben slid a hand down her back, and slowly eased fingers into the back of her panties, while pressing her closer. He moved his mouth to her other breast, pressing small ragged bites around her nipple.His fingers found the crease of her ass, and he brushed into her folds, seeking heat. Rey twisted in an effort to help remove her underwear, and Ben got the hint and aided her in pulling them down and off. Then he moved a hand up and unhooked her bra, which Rey shook away off of her arms.

 

Ben pressed his face in between her breasts, resting on her breastbone, looking much younger and then older, in the light radiating from the fire.Rey felt his heart beating hard.He moved a hand down again to her thighs and brushed them apart. She gripped his shoulders as he moved a searching finger into her warm and wet folds. It felt like a cup of molten liquid between her thighs.Rey bit into his hair as Ben moved his finger to thrust gently but insistently inside of her, and then added a second.The intensity made her voice a high-pitched sound, and Ben moved, seemingly to discover what other sounds he could help her make.

 

Abandoning any pretense at dignity, Rey ground down on his hand, fucking herself down on his strong digits. She was rubbing her chin all over the top of his head, and she could feel tears springing against her eyelashes. Ben moved his hand faster, and then added a third finger, and then she couldn’t help it, she cried out with pleasure. She could hear his voice, murmuring soft and low-pitched nonsense words of encouragement.The sensation was so overwhelming, she felt like her entire world had shrunk down to one single point where she was pinned on his hand. From deep inside, she felt herself ignite, and then a rush of shocks flooded her thighs as she came hard, an electric burst followed by rolling tremors that pulsed around her entire middle.Rey rocked and rocked, the feeling curling through her entire body in waves, and she realized she was trembling. 

 

Ben raised himself up, and Rey grasped onto his writhing cock through his underwear. He was as rigid as a lead pipe against her hand.He was breathing hard and stroked her soft curls around her now-soaked pussy.He turned and pulled out the small drawer in the nightstand and removed a wrapped condom.

 

“What else do you have in there?” Rey asked.

 

“There’s a Bible. You could certainly use one. Would you rather I put this back and got that out instead?” asked Ben.

 

“No,” answered Rey. 

 

She heard the wrapper crinkle. Rey felt greedily for the waistband of his underwear and rolled it down his hips and thighs. She pulled them the rest of the way off of his legs while he rolled the condom down his cock, which barely wobbled as it thrust up hard close to his stomach.

 

She rotated onto her back and grabbed Ben’s shoulder to get him closer. His thick weight on top of her had her hips rocking again, and she surrounded his hips with her thighs, rubbing them against him in anticipation.She drew him in like a magnet and felt the tip of his cock straining at her opening.Ben made a low chirping moan, in an effort to go slow. Rey felt tight, and he was large, but she couldn’t help using her heels against his thighs to urge him in closer.With a powerful scraping thrust, Ben pinned her into the mattress with his cock.One hand was next to her, supporting his weight, and the other was cupped over the top of her head, pressing her against him harder. Rey felt herself gasp fiercely and fucked herself upwards, feeling him fill her.

 

Ben responded to her insistent urging, and rolled his hips against her faster and faster, angling his penetration as deep as he could. Rey scraped her nails against the small of his back and urged with her fingers there, as if to try to get his entire being into her thighs.She matched his rhythm and jerked her small hips up and down his length, feeling pressure building up again deep inside of herself. Every point on her body felt like a small flame was burning there, at her lips, her breasts, her cunt, the tops of her thighs, and the back of her neck.

 

She heard Ben breathing hard like a racing horse, his powerful chest heaving along with their movements. His lips found the flesh under her ear, and he bit there gently, firmly tugging her in place.

 

He whispered to her, “Let me hear you come again,” and his mouth burned intently against her neck.

 

Rey ground upwards, faster and faster, and he plunged deeper, moving her body against him like he couldn’t get close enough. The tip of his cock scraped on her cervix over and over, and against the rough patch of flesh inside where a fuse had been lit. All sensation of having limbs or a body disappeared as she erupted into a soundless long cry, and pleasure coursed from her center and outwards to everywhere. Ben rolled her clitoris gently against his cock, and she did shout then, another wave hitting her so hard she forgot her name. Her walls clamped around him, throbbing, and he accelerated his thrusts, fucking her through the aftershocks. He suddenly clenched his body and jerked into her hard and fast three times and inhaled sharply through his own release, which she could feel through his back.

 

“Rey,” he cried, and grasped harder at the top of her head, and his weight shoved her deeper into the mattress.She tugged at him hard with her thighs, loving the feeling of this big man coming apart in her body. He lowered his forehead to touch hers, and she could see moisture beading around his eyelashes. When he opened his eyes, she saw they were soft and wet in the firelight. Rey touched his chin tenderly and kissed him slowly on the mouth.

 

“Who needs Jesus now?” Rey asked.

 

Ben laughed with a little gasping sob and laid his head in the crook of her shoulder.She petted his hair, stroking him gently.He carefully pulled out of her, and rolled away to face the firelight, pulling her hand with him so she was embracing him. Rey snuggled into his back and rubbed the knobs of his spine, kissing his shoulders and holding him.She stroked his chest where she could feel his scars.

 

_You’ve seen more than you’re saying,_ she thought. She felt ferociously protective of him. Had he ever been given a chance? Like her, he seemed made for a different world, struggling to manifest successfully in this one where they found themselves.

 

Rey pulled up the blanket to cover them both. The fire grew lower in the hearth, and she could feel her heartbeat slowing along with Ben’s. Soon they were both asleep, each spiraling deeply into their dreams.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song "The End of a Perfect Day." https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/the-end-of-a-perfect-day/
> 
> It's very Reylo, I think? 
> 
> "I want to tell you something  
> It’s not a secret or anything  
> You’re not alone in being alone  
> At the end of a perfect day"
> 
> The hit count on this story went up to 2000 this week, which I find a minor miracle. A deep bow of gratitude to everyone giving it a read, I appreciate it and adore you. Please have a wonderful weekend. xo


	23. L’air deborde de cris du couer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to be posting late tonight--I had an all day event and just got home. I hope someone missed me. ;) 
> 
> NSFW and some horrendously shameful fluff. I promise there will be angst soon, no worries.

Next day, early morning mid-January 2008

 

The smell of cooking bacon greeted Rey’s nose, along with the aroma of fresh coffee. She cracked open an eye, and first registered the first sight of the wan winter morning light hovering near the windows—next she became aware of the nude figure of Ben in front of a stove.She lingered with an appreciative gaze on his ass, and then realized with regret that she needed to pee. Rey snuck out from under the covers as quietly as possible, took care of business, and brushed her teeth. She felt pleasantly sore.There were small crimson marks in interesting places on her body.

 

There was a plush terry-cloth bathrobe on a hook in the bathroom and she put it on. Rey felt like music was floating through her body.

 

“Do you want fried or scrambled?” she heard Ben ask.

 

“Fried,” answered Rey. She attempted to tame her fuck-matted hair into something sane-looking. Ben looked unmussed, damn him.

 

She drifted back out toward the kitchenette and embraced Ben from behind. He leaned back into her with an affectionate nudge.“There’s coffee,” he said.

 

Rey found mugs on a shelf in the kitchenette and poured two cups. There was a toaster on the counter, and she extracted a couple of slices of bread and got some toast started.

 

There were plates in a cupboard, and Rey found silverware in a drawer. She brought their coffee cups over to the table in front of the loveseat, and then watched salivating as Ben served bacon, eggs, and toast up on their plates.

 

The fire had been built up again, and the morning chill in the cabin was retreating quickly. From the window, Rey could see a fresh coating of light snow on the pine trees. It was easy to pretend to be on holiday somewhere far far away, enjoying a wintery holiday celebration.

 

Ben squished in next to her on the little couch, placing their plates down on the table. Rey found a blanket on the back of the couch and spread it over their laps, and they both dove into breakfast.

 

“Oh! I forgot the fruit,” said Ben.

 

“We can have it for dessert,” answered Rey, “this is too delicious.” She also didn’t want him to get up from the couch, enjoying the way they were warmly curled together.

 

When they were done with food, Rey put her head on Ben’s shoulder, and drank coffee, staring into the fire. 

 

Ben said, “I thought we could drive up to Lake Arrowhead this morning before we have to check out. I’d like you to see the lake when it is surrounded by snow.”

 

Rey didn’t like to think about leaving, but smiled at him and said, “That sounds incredible.” 

 

“The last time I was up here, it was just before I started your class,” said Ben. “I stayed for a week, it was hot. Everything smelled like pine—and all you could hear for miles was insects chirping. Everything is quieter, and your thoughts slow down here.”

 

Rey said, “Right now it feels like time has stopped. Like there’s no one here alive except us.”

 

“That sounds delightful,” Ben said smiling. He picked up the dishes and carried them to the sink. She heard him go back to where their bags were—she hoped he wasn’t putting on pants, which would be a shame. Rey drank her coffee, trying to think of a tactful way to suggest that he should remain nude, when he returned with a bulky package, enclosed in holiday gift wrap.

 

“I have something for you,” Ben said.

 

Rey jumped and said, “Oh! I have something for you too!” and leapt up to go get the book she’d brought to give to him.

 

“Here,” she said, “it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

 

“You go first,” said Ben. He looked like he was trying to suppress some eagerness. The package was heavy.

 

Rey tore into the wrapping, and was confronted by a heavy cardboard box, taped up like crazy.

 

“Did you get me a pony?” asked Rey.

 

“A little one. It looks like I forgot air holes though, I hope he’s ok,” said Ben.

 

Rey grappled with the tape and finally triumphed in pulling things apart and opened the box.

 

It contained books. Rey turned the spines to face her.

 

They were the books she’d had to put aside at Manticore.

 

“Ben,” Rey said. She felt tears forming. “You shouldn’t have. Oh my god.”

 

He looked relieved. “You like them?”

 

She was so choked, she couldn’t form words. Rey reached over and grabbed him in a huge and awkward side hug. “I love them,” she said into his collarbone.

 

Rey pulled the books out of the box and pored over them again. An envelope fell out of one of the books.

 

“Read it later,” Ben said. “Can I open mine now?”

 

“Of course,” said Rey, “though it’s so--not much, now it is kind of embarrassing.”

 

Ben ripped the paper off and said “Oh wow wow! Thank you! God, I love Goya.”

 

Rey said, “There are bigger and nicer books on him, but this one has really clear reproductions, and I remembered you said you were influenced by this series.” 

 

“This is amazing, I love it,” said Ben. He hugged her and kissed her ear. “You have wonderful taste.” Ben took the packages and put them on the coffee table, and then pulled Rey in again for a real kiss. Their angle on the loveseat was kind of klutzy, so Rey slid over onto his lap to face him, her knees on either side of his thighs. She felt Ben begin untying the belt of her bathrobe and she shivered.This might not be an actual Christmas morning, but this was a pretty great close second.

 

He hands trailed around her waist, and Rey nuzzled closer, kissing his neck. His hands enfolded her back under the robe, and then stroked downwards to caress her ass. Her kisses got wilder, and Rey touched her lips on every place on Ben’s face that she could reach. His fingers kept reaching downwards and burrowed toward her now wet cunt.She raised up slightly on her knees in reaction, aching to bring his hands in closer, wanting to take more.

 

His fingertips brushed teasingly into her folds, barely touching and creeping away, until she was grinding, trying to get more contact. Still, he tantalized her, his evasive touches skirting only close enough to just set her nerves alight.

 

“Ben,” she hissed.

 

“Hmmm?” he answered coyly.

 

_We’ll see about that_ , thought Rey. She tilted her hips forward and seated herself gently but firmly on the edge of Ben’s obvious erection, teasingly running her pussy up its length and then lifting off quickly. His hands tried to guide her down again and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her with a hopeful expression. She chuckled, resisting him as he gave her another optimistic little tug. Rey licked him along the jawbone and then nibbled her way up to his temple.

 

Suddenly she felt lifted off the couch and realized Ben was standing, holding her ass, and Rey yelped and hooked her arms and legs around him, her robe trailing like a cape.

 

He sat her down on the edge of the bed, and then pushed the sleeves of the bathrobe down and off of her arms. Ben pressed her to lie back on the bed, kneeled next to the bedside and pulled her knees toward him and apart until her pussy was in range of his mouth.His breath puffed hotly into her and she tried to shift closer. Ben kept his grip on her thighs, so she couldn’t move. She could hear him laugh quietly.

 

“Please, Ben. Please,” she begged. His thumbs massaged her inner thighs, moving slowly upwards, and he twitched his lips into her just enough for her to jerk off the bed in reaction. Ben moved his face from side to side, just barely scraping her folds with his mouth.Rey crammed her fingers into her mouth, so she wouldn’t scream, her shoulders lurching helplessly out of her control. She felt one thumb brush across her clitoris and then she couldn’t help crying out.

 

Ben’s mouth engulfed her and he sucked down keenly, bringing her relief. Her fervid cries got louder and louder, but Rey was past caring how it sounded. She scraped her nails along his scalp, and he lapped her even more vigorously. He carefully entered her with one finger, and Rey contracted around it and rotated her hips, craving the feel all over her inside walls. Ben pressed in another finger and began to curl them upwards and thrust gently. Rey shook, feeling like hands were passing all over her flesh. A scorching burst from below her navel suddenly shot through her hips and she came hard, convulsed.

 

Rey rested her legs on Ben’s shoulders, as he kissed her through the aftermath, enjoying the feeling of his lips on her inner thighs. Ben rose up and he was wearing a slightly smug expression.

 

“Get on the bed,” Rey demanded hoarsely. Ben complied, with an innocent air.

 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

 

“Lay back. Please,” answered Rey. She got up and eyed his bobbing cock, erect with anticipation. Rey leaned over Ben to open the nightstand drawer and extracted a condom from the box. He glanced at her demurely.

 

“Brat,” she wheezed.She tore the wrapper open and sheathed the condom around his cock. Rey got up and knelt over him, her knees on either side of Ben. She placed her hands down firmly on his chest, holding him still. 

 

Rey lowered herself slowly down, allowing him to pierce her just inside her opening. And then stopped. He jerked upwards with his hips, and she pressed him back with her hands. Rey began to pull up and teased him with little thrusts up and down on his glans. Ben groaned.

 

He reached with his fingers toward her hips, but she was just out of reach. Rey pumped him like this a few more times, enjoying his agonized expression. She decided that he’d suffered enough and slowly sunk herself down his cock, and he watched himself disappear into her with relief.

 

She bucked her hips, seating him firmly, feeling his tip inside against her sensitive nerves. Rey gave a contented moan and bent over his chest, and he extended his arms around her back to engulf her. She fucked down on him, and he thrust back up into her eagerly.Rey raised and lowered herself in a quick rhythm and became breathless from the pace.Sensation rose up again through her body, and she bent over Ben further, her mouth open and gasping. Her breasts grazed Ben’s chest, and her nipples felt electric from the contact. He reached his hand down between them and gently rubbed her clit. She glanced down at his face and his eyes were shining darkly with pleasure.

 

From inside, she shattered, and her mind went glazed and soundless. Ben could sense her tiring, and he rolled her over carefully while still inside her. She embraced his hips with her thighs, and he drove into her with a fresh onslaught. Rey clenched around him tightly and she heard him gasp. The bed was shaking hard, and her ass was recoiling from the bounce of the mattress springs. Suddenly he moaned loudly, and she squeezed down on him one more time, wringing one more orgasm from herself while stroking him with her walls to make his own memorable. They came together with soft cries. Ben bucked against her through the tremors of his finish and held her closely.

 

“Beautiful work, tiger. You are so sexy,” he whispered when he stopped.

 

Rey whispered back, “You should get an eye exam. No one ever tells me that.” 

 

Ben bit her shoulder. “You are. It’s just that all of those other people were worthless and stupid.”

 

“Oh, certainly, that makes sense,” Rey said, but she smiled against his head, feeling absurdly pleased and cherished.She drew circles on his back with her fingers. Ben drew back from her after resting a minute and kissed her lips.

 

“We need to bathe,” he said. “I smell like your new pony.”

 

He drew out of her with care and went to go clean himself off and start the shower. Rey got up and went and joined him, first admiring him through the glass of the shower door.She opened the door and entered into the cloud of steam with him, and he smiled down at her, his hair slicked down, water beading his eyelids. Rey dreamed of a life where a day like this could be every single day.

 

***

 

It was barely nine AM when they bundled up warmly and trooped out to the Impala.

 

It only took ten minutes to drive to the lake. Large fluffy white clouds loomed overhead, moving like ships in the sky.

 

Ben grabbed his camera out of the car and took Rey’s hand. The pier and boat slips were covered with a thick frosting of unbroken smooth snow and, in some places, there were icicles hanging. The lake was calm and unruffled, reflecting the clouds above and the sun rising up over the trees. Claws of leafless tree branches dipped under the weight of frost.The pines looked just like flocked Christmas trees, waiting for excited children to gather around them to open gifts.

 

“Are you cold?” asked Ben. He wrapped Rey close in front of him and covered her with the loose flaps of his wool coat. He placed his chin on her head.She could hear him breathing, slowly and calmly. She felt his calm seep into her, and she leaned back into his chest. The chill of the morning and the beauty of the landscape made her eyes prick with moisture. Vapor wafted off of the lake as the sun warmed the water.

 

She felt a surge of affection for him—this day had been special. He gave her a squeeze, as if he’d heard her thoughts. Ben kissed the side of her head and released her. 

 

“I’m going to take some pictures,” he said.

 

Rey walked around the lake, drinking in the scenes, while Ben shot photos. It was too cold to draw, so she was glad she’d have Ben’s photos to enjoy for memories. He took several of her too. 

 

Eventually it was time to head back to the cabin to check out. Rey and Ben packed up their bags, and Ben gathered the remaining food and placed it into a cooler from his trunk with some ice. They snacked on some fruit and juice before packing it up. Rey lounged again in the loveseat, drawing sketches of the interior of the cabin, and surreptitiously drew some of Ben while he was packing intently. 

 

Rey put her beautiful new books into her suitcase.They both did a check of the cabin to make sure nothing had been left behind.

 

“You, um, grabbed the condoms, right?” asked Rey.

 

Ben smiled sweetly at her. “I made sure to pack those first,” he answered.

 

Opportunities for privacy would be limited when they left this secluded wonderland, but Rey was determined to let no possible chance go to waste. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from La Forêt de Mimosas: https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/la-foret-de-mimosas/
> 
> Yesterday was my birthday, another trip around the sun--this time last year I would have never figured I would have written a novel by the time I was a year older. Thank you for everyone reading along, I appreciate it! Have a lovely weekend. xo


	24. The power of speech just disappears when you touch me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Warning for a re-entry in this chapter into the Hux territory that the story is tagged for.

 

Early February 2008

 

Rey supposed it had to happen sooner or later—she ran into Leia while at the Organa house. Leia’s role as an influencer and donor in the art world made for a nomadic existence, but she did check in at her house on a semi-regular basis.

 

It so happened that Rey was drawing out in the gazebo one cloudy afternoon on a day off, while Ben was out at one of his classes. He’d given her a key, and she was waiting for him to return from school. Rey had scavenged some fruit and a blanket from the house and was deep in concentration over her sketchbook.

 

Rey heard the crunching of turf behind her and turned, thinking it might be Ben, and found it was Leia Organa.

 

With a mother’s intuition, and a perfectly normal grasp on the obvious, Leia realized right away that the presence of her son’s drawing teacher at her house wasn’t for private art lessons.

 

An ironic eyebrow, the twin of Ben’s, flew up at seeing Rey.

 

Leia asked, “Did my son fail his last assignment or something?”

 

Rey shot up from her seat and the blanket fell off of her lap to the ground.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Rey said. “Ben said it was ok if I drew here sometimes. I didn’t mean to presume.”

 

“You’re not at Niima this semester,” said Leia.

 

“No,” answered Rey, somewhat mystified.

 

Leia said, “I try to keep my finger on the pulse of things around there. I let Maz know I was disappointed we couldn’t meet and talk about the budget cuts before she started making decisions.I foolishly let the college close down one department I loved, and I’m trying to keep them from closing down the other one.”

 

“I’ve had my hands full lately with other things and family issues though,” Leia continued.

 

Rey said, “Well, they’ve laid me off before. Hopefully it won’t be forever.”

 

Leia nodded. She gestured to the bench in the gazebo and asked, “May I sit down?”

 

Rey was embarrassed and choked out, “Of course, this is your home.”She sat down again awkwardly.

 

Leia was wearing an upswept hairdo and a crisp suit, but she looked tired, and sank down on the bench. She picked up the blanket and smoothed it back over Rey’s knees.

 

“You know, I never really come in here,” Leia said. “This is the first time in forever. Ben’s father had it built, for entertaining, but everyone except Ben seemed to think it was too depressing.”

 

Rey knew so little about the Organa family: she’d entered into their lives like a stowaway on a ship and was feeling like she’d been discovered onboard unexpectedly by the captain. She was surprised that Leia was chatting with her so intimately. Rey had first met her as her student’s salty mum and was having a difficulty refocusing on her as the idolized collector and patron of the arts of the Organa dynasty. The little space of personal territory she’d carved out with Ben seemed to shrink into the distance.He was the scion of all of this, and not just the object of her affection.

 

Leia seemed to read her face. “Has Ben told you why he moved in here with me? Moved back in, I mean?”

 

“He said he’d been working, and had his own apartment, but things got to be too much,” Rey said. “He said you told him he could live here if he took classes in something he wanted to pursue.”

 

Ben’s mother stared out across the yard over to the pool. “He should have been more honest with you.”

 

Rey felt uneasy and also defensive of Ben. “He told me that he’d been wounded, and that he’d been almost killed. In the war. I mean, he told me some of what happened, and that’s what it sounded like. It seems like it was stressful.”

 

Leia snorted. “Stressful. That’s a word.” She tapped her fingernails on the bench, bit her lip, and then looked at Rey.

 

“Look, I’m not sure what your intentions are with Ben, or his with you. And maybe I should mind my own business,” she continued. “But a year ago, I was at his apartment, calling 911, thinking he was having a heart attack and dying at the age of 33.” She peered out of the gazebo, at the clouds rolling overhead.

 

“The paramedics came, and said that no, he wasn’t dying of a heart attack. It was just a massive panic attack. **_Just_** ,” Leia ground out with feeling.

 

Leia had finally dragged out of Ben that this hadn’t been the first attack, just the worst—the one he’d finally called her to help him with--because he thought he was going to die.

 

“He won’t talk about it,” said Leia. “Not to me, anyway. I don’t know entirely what happened to scar his beautiful body, or to make him come back a completely different person. But, he hasn’t been the Ben I raised, not since he was discharged.”

 

Discomfited, Rey cleared her throat. She’d never seen anything like that happen with Ben when she was with him. And he’d been honest with her about many things. Maybe Leia was being protective of her son, guarding him from his obscure girlfriend with few prospects. Ben had made it sound like Leia wasn’t the most maternal parent anyway. Who knew where this was coming from?

 

Leia saw that Rey looked skeptical. “Look, I’m thrilled he’s reaching out to you. I won’t speculate on the nature of your relationship, but he’s never made friends easily. And I know I seem overinvolved here—but you should know what you’re taking on. You’re a nice person—and sometimes, now, he really really isn’t. That night, after the paramedics left, and I was packing up some of his stuff to bring him over here, the things that came out of his mouth were…”Leia broke off, looking sick and sad.

 

Suddenly her face changed, and Leia put on an air of cheer. “Hello dear, look what I found in the garden,” she called to Ben, who was walking down the lawn toward them.

 

Rey bent around to get a glimpse of Ben, who was peering warily at them both. She waved to him, hoping to look unconcerned. He was loping cautiously, nearer and nearer, like a shy stray cat, uncertain of his welcome. 

 

“What are you two talking about?” asked Ben.

 

“Art,” said Rey.

 

“Shopping,” said Leia, at the same time.

 

“Both--art and shopping. Shopping for art,” said Rey. Ben leaned against a pillar of the gazebo and raised his eyebrows at his mother, who rose from her seat.

 

“Well, I’ll leave you kids to it. I have an early morning meeting in Los Angeles tomorrow, and it’s probably going to rain tonight, so I’m driving down today and staying there. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Leia said.

 

Ben snorted and murmured, “That leaves a lot on the table.”He did bend down and give her a small brief hug when his mother reached up to him.

 

He watched her as she walked back up to the house and disappeared inside. Only when she was gone did Ben come inside the gazebo and sit down on the bench with Rey. She hugged him, and he leaned in for a warm kiss, his brow only just still somewhat clouded. Rey decided to ignore it. Things were fine, and they were happy. Leia seemed somewhat compulsively provocative.

 

“What did you draw today?” asked Ben.

 

Rey passed him her sketchbook so he could look. She’d managed to capture the crow who liked to romp on the grass, he was a proud bird and seemed to pose for her. He’d looked at her sideways and croaked at her. Rey had drawn him tossing a stick in his beak. 

 

“His mate must be hiding today,” said Ben. “They’ve lived in the yard forever. Mom calls them Abelard and Heloise.”

 

Rey looked up around the trees, trying to see if she could spot the birds together. She noticed clouds were starting to get thicker in the sky and shivered. It really did look like it could rain tonight.

 

Ben was looking through the other pages in her sketchbook and noticed the drawings Rey had done of him, and Rey tried to grab her book back.

 

“Hey, you weren’t supposed to see those,” she exclaimed.

 

He smiled and handed it back to her. “You might be the one who needs an eye exam. You made me way too pretty.”

 

Rey clicked her tongue, and said, “My eyes are perfectly fine and I’m a trained professional.”

 

“Oh yes,” said Ben. He drew her into him so her back was against his chest.He nuzzled down to the base of her neck and drew his lips against the knob of her spine.A hand found her right nipple and he rubbed it until it raised up under her bra and shirt.

 

“What other kinds of training do you have?” he asked.

 

His fingers continued to travel delicately over her breast, and Rey was just working around to deciding what to do about it when it suddenly began raining with an unexpected burst. Ben froze. Rey exhaled sharply at his reaction.

 

“We get three days of rain this winter, and one of them had to come right now,” he said, relaxing.

 

“I guess we’ll have to stay in here until it stops raining,” Rey said.

 

Ben drew the blanket up until it covered both of them and pulled her closer so she was settled in between his legs, stretched out in front of him on the bench. He wrapped his arms around her.

 

“I used to come in here when I was a kid,” Ben said. “I had a blanket I used as a cape and a toy sword. I’d play Knights of the Round Table. Dad snuck me to go see ‘Excalibur’ when mom was out of town once. She was pissed when she found out, because it had S-E-X in it.” 

 

Ben chuckled. “I hardly noticed since my biggest crush in the film was the sword. I wanted my mom to hold one up with her hand out of the pool, like the Lady of the Lake, but she wasn’t into it. I had to play all the parts.”

 

The small old stone structure would have made a perfect little castle for a kid, Rey noticed. She liked the way it was concealed in the trees, with dark green light filtering in through the rain.She felt Ben shiver. He pulled the blanket tighter around them.

 

“I would have played with you,” said Rey. “All the women in the story fare pretty badly though. I’d rather play one of the knights anyway.” She tried to imagine running around the backyard with child Ben, blanket also tied around her neck, yelling and waving a fake sword. “When we played at the orphanage, the boys said girls couldn’t be knights and wouldn’t let us play with swords.”

 

Ben drew up behind her stiffly. “Well, that’s bullshit. I would have given you a sword. You could have been one of the knights.” Rey reflected that having an assertive female in his life like his mom had also made a positive impression on young Ben. It was probably true--he would have let her play a knight.

 

“I wish I had some good memories to share with you,” Rey said. Ben kissed her ear and smoothed a lock of hair behind it. 

 

He didn’t answer but folded her closer. His hands crept up again to her breasts. Rey felt her breath come faster. After a few minutes, Ben unfurled the blanket from around them and rose up. He folded it in half and laid it in the center of the gazebo floor. Rey stood up and went to where he was standing, and they both knelt together on the blanket.

 

_Somehow the rain seems even louder on the center of the roof_ , Rey thought, as they sank down.

 

***

 

It was getting dimmer and colder and the rain had only let up a little bit. Rey had startled awake, under a fold of the blanket, and found Ben with his jeans back on, crouching to the side of her. He’d been watching her while she slept.

 

“I didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so peaceful,” he said. “But we should head inside before we freeze and starve to death out here.”

 

Rey nodded and grabbed her clothes and got dressed on the blanket as quickly as possible. Her teeth her starting to chatter.She made sure to slide her sketchbook safely into her shirt to keep it as dry as possible.

 

Ben folded the blanket and grabbed her hand. They both ran back through the trees, and up the slope of the lawn to the house. They were both damp by the time they reached the safety of the house. Ben had them both strip off in the laundry room and put their clothes in the washer. She kept the blanket wrapped around her and Ben got them both clothes from his room--she was swallowed up in one of his old flannel shirts, which came halfway down her thighs.

 

She tucked herself on the couch in the living room while Ben went to go rummage for dinner. Rey drowsed, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. She could hear him singing a little, in chopped-up little verses that didn’t make any sense from a distance.

 

Rey woke up when she smelled food, Ben had two plates of pasta.

 

“I hope you don’t mind, nothing fancy. It was the quickest thing I could think of,” said Ben.

 

“Why would I mind?” Rey asked between bites. “I feel guilty, you do all of the cooking. If it were up to me, we’d be living on cheese toast.”

 

Once they were finished, Rey took the dishes back to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher. When she returned to the living room, Ben was not there. She tried to hear where he was in the house, and thought she heard some soft footfalls down the hall. Rey crept quietly down toward his bedroom, where she saw a light shining.

 

Ben was already in his bed, with his head on the pillow.

 

“Turn the light off and come here,” he whispered. So she did.

 

Blind in the dark, she felt his hands reach for her shirt and start unbuttoning it. Rey shrugged out of it as quickly and sunk in deeply next to him under the comforter, seeking the pocket of warmth around him.He wasn’t wearing anything at all, and she stroked him and felt him swell up under her fingers. The heat from his hips urged toward her center, and he leaned down to consume her mouth.

 

Rey couldn’t stop touching his cock, and his hands brushed her skin more and more in a fevered manner.

 

“I’ve never fucked anyone in this bed,” Ben said with a stifled groan. He looked curiously virginal and fitful.

 

“Are you sure your parents are out of town?” Rey asked. “I don’t want them to catch us. I’ll be in so much trouble.”

 

Ben cracked an eye at her, and then assumed a serious expression. “They never come back before midnight, but we’d better be quiet, so the neighbors don’t tell on us. If they hear us, I’ll be totally grounded.” 

 

He put his fingers into the crotch of her panties and stroked her through them. Rey vibrated with pleasure, playing at trying to stay quiet. She rocked on his fingers and could feel how soaked she was. She didn’t think she could wait much longer.

 

Ben peeled her out of her underwear and mouthed hotly against her ear. “Pretend this is our first time, we’re losing our cherries together” he gasped.

 

“Ben, I’m not sure if you’re going to fit in me. I’ve never done this before,” Rey teased, giving him a hard pump. “But I’m so wet, and I don’t know what to do.”

 

“I’ve done some research,” said Ben, “I think we can figure it out.” He pulled out the box of condoms and fumbled for one. She heard him roll it onto himself and she quivered.

 

He rolled her onto her back and took her hands and placed them in his and held them next to her head, his fingers laced into hers. Ben nudged her thighs apart wider with his knee and nudged eagerly at the entrance to her slit. Rey rotated her hips until she felt him solidly lined up there and he bore in slowly.

 

She laced her ankles around him, and he guided himself inside, lowering his hips.

 

“You’re so tight,” Ben gasped. “I hope I’m not hurting you.”

 

Rey urged him in all the way, craving friction against her walls and her clit and he came into her with a rapid clinch.

 

She bucked her hips, and he began rocking into her hard, the tick of his bedframe keeping loud time with their motion. She was overwhelmed, the scent of his crisply laundered sheets, warmed by their bodies, surrounding them. Rey snapped her hips more and more wildly, and Ben covered her mouth with his own to swallow her gasps as she came.

 

“I’m gonna come,” he panted, and she squeezed down on him from the inside and he yelped as his torso bucked upwards.

 

He crushed her down with his chest and burrowed his face into her neck. She could feel his cock still pulsing.

 

“I’m going to pretend that was really my first time,” said Ben.

 

“So am I,” said Rey drowsily, “since I don’t remember my real first time.” She could feel Ben frown against her neck, and she inwardly berated herself. He slipped out of her carefully and looked into her face.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“You don’t want to know,” Rey answered.

 

“I mean, was it against your will?” Ben asked. “I don’t want to do something and have you afraid of me or hurt. That would kill me.”

 

Rey sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. “It was my first year in college. I got really really drunk and did something idiotic.”

 

“In college, your art school? Wait,” Ben reared up concerned, and she could see him forming some connections of his own in his head.

 

“You wondered,” Rey grated out with shame, “how I knew Hux.” Might as well just rip off the band-aid. Ben seemed determined to hear this horrible story.

 

“THAT FUCKER,” Ben roared. “WHAT THE FUCK DID HE DO TO YOU?” He bounced out of the bed, as if Rey was on fire.

 

Rey felt ill. She burrowed deeper under the comforter. She should probably just get dressed and go. She’d ruined this.

 

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she whimpered, trying to not cry. She could see Ben watching her under the covers and then he whirled to leave the bedroom. She heard him in the bathroom and heard water running and the flush of the toilet. “FUCK,” he yelled again, which she could hear clearly from the bedroom.

 

Cold was seeping in under the covers. Ben came back into the room.

 

“Do you want me to leave?” asked Rey. “I’m sorry, it was a long time ago. It’s a bad memory, but I wasn’t injured or any—”

 

“Rey,” Ben bit off. He took a long, jagged breath and got back under the covers with her. “Why would I want you to leave, and why are you saying sorry? Just tell me what happened. If you can,” he amended.

 

She recounted as much of the event as she could recall, sometimes looking up, seeing Ben’s eyes get darker and darker.

 

“So, you aren’t even really sure what happened, like to you--” Ben said.

 

“I never wanted to ask. I mean he could make up anything, so what would be the point?” Rey said tearfully. She felt tired and old. A lacerating feeling of aloneness was creeping up into her belly.

 

Ben clenched her closely, so her head was under his jaw. He seemed to be trying to think of how to say something.

 

“When I saw he showed up at your show,” Ben said, “I wanted to kill him. I should have done it when we were at school together at my Uncle Luke’s. They could never prove it, but parents in the town called the school constantly. Parents with young daughters.” He stopped.

 

“Really pretty young,” Ben continued.

 

“The story was always the same, the girls didn’t remember--the only thing they could remember was that it was a boy from the school. That was the only thing,” he said. “Hux was my roommate. He’d smile and ask me who I thought it was. He’d taunt me with it, pretending to try to solve the identity of the guy. I would look at him asleep across the room and fantasize about squeezing his throat until I crushed it and he died.”

 

“I finally told Uncle Luke what I suspected. That I thought it was Hux,” Ben frowned. “Luke didn’t believe me at first, he thought I was trying to find an easy way to get kicked out of his school, which is pretty fucked up.” 

 

“One day though,” he said, “Hux’s parents came and got him. There was a big black Town Car outside, and he strolled out with his duffle bag. But first he made sure to say goodbye to me.”

 

_“When you’re rich, you can get away with anything,” Hux said. “Your tiresome moralizing is a betrayal of our class. When you finally loosen up and learn to live up to your status in life, you might actually amount to something. It’s no use having power and wealth unless you’re going to enjoy it. Thoroughly.” He smiled._

 

_Ben shook. “I’ll never be like you. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.”_

 

_“Sure, Solo. Enjoy your little poems and your calligraphy, tough guy. You got put here because someone stronger than you proved what he could do to you. You’ll always be weak, unless you take advantage of the weakest ones first,” Hux purred. “I might just go look that old man up. Maybe he’ll have a job for me when I get back home.”_

 

_“You deserve each other,” Ben snarled, rising up. Hux laughed, and he trotted away out of the room quickly, with an ugly grin._

 

_Ben went to the bathroom and threw up. He looked at his long bony face in the mirror, blotched with red patches from rage and tears.His ears were sticking out from under his regulation pudding-bowl hair-cut, and he felt frozen and empty._

 

_Debilitated._

 

_He never wanted to feel this way again._

 

_Hux was a psychopath, but he was right about one thing. Ben needed to get harder._

 

Rey was just on the edge of sleep, but she looked into Ben’s face. He looked feral and remote. He was absently stroking her hair.

 

“I’ll never let him hurt you again,” Ben said, looking into the distance.

 

Rey’s mind finally released her body and she fell asleep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from the song "Touch Me" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/touch-me/
> 
> The tempo of this song kind of sums up the mood of this chapter for me. 
> 
> For some reason I was determined to write this whole story from the POV of Rey and try to not swing into Ben's POV, mostly as a narrative exercise. But there were pieces where I just couldn't and he needed to tell his bit of the story his way. Does it work? I'm not sure or not. There's probably a lot of things I'd change if I were starting this all over again, but at a certain point I didn't want to try to polish this for so many months I'd lose courage about posting it at all.
> 
> Sometimes I feel bad I made Hux so evil, since Domnhall Gleeson is such a sweetie. But then I remember he helped blow up the Hosnian system and was pretty cheerful about it. So, there's that.
> 
> (The part about the rain is pure fantasy and I feel guilty about it. CA was in one of many droughts that year and I looked it up and Feb was unseasonably dry, with less than an inch of rain. You can pretend it all fell in Niima for one day to get this romantic deluge. I just wanted some atmosphere in the gazebo, dammit.) 
> 
> Thank you all for sweet comments, kudos and for giving this a read!


	25. The hole in the sky where the sunshine gets in

That night, and then day, mid-February 2008

 

 

_She put down the note from the princess and picked up a small box with an inkwell and pens. It had a pouch that attached to her belt. She added the note to the pouch and also picked up a lantern._

 

_The moon was rising in the sky, she needed to make haste. She dashed back down the stairs and out of the castle, looking for any sign of a road._

 

_She held up the lantern, her feet scraping in the dirt, silence heavy in the meadow all around her. Soon she saw the edge of the forest and hurried toward the stand of dark trees._

 

_She plunged into the forest, and then was confronted with the crossroads. Which direction to follow?_

 

_The girl heard a sound like a throat being cleared just as the moon was highest in the night sky._

 

_“Good evening, miss. Can I help you?”_

 

_She glanced down toward the ground, and spied a little hut, and in front of it, a gray woodland rat, smoking a pipe._

 

_“I was supposed to meet someone here, I’m not sure if you can help me--you are a rat.” she said._

 

_“Ah,” answered the rat, “I’m sure it must seem that way, from a certain point of view.” He drew on his pipe and blew a smoke ring._

 

_The girl knelt in front of the rat, pleading, “I will accept any help you can give me. My friend, the prince, is trapped in a curse. If I don’t help him, he will never find his way back to human form. His mother gave me this note.” She pulled the note from her pouch and showed it to the rat._

 

_The rat answered, “I know, we’ve been waiting for you.” But he carefully put on glasses and examined the note. “All seems to be in order here.”_

 

_She listened intently._

 

_“This is a typical heroic rescue. Per tradition, you will be assigned three tasks. If you fail at any of them, the prince will be locked forever in his curse, and the kingdom will be blighted by eternal war. However, should you succeed, the prince will be freed.” He handed back the note._

 

_She blinked. “That’s it? That seems pretty cliché’. Are you sure?”_

 

_The rat stroked the fur on his chin, “Yes, we came up with this formula ages ago and it seems to work out pretty well,” he said. “Humans like things in threes for some reason.”_

 

_“Ok,” she said, “But what do I have to do?”_

 

_“There are three paths before you here—each one will lead to a different task. Return here after you have completed each. I recommend you take the right-hand fork here first,” he gestured._

 

_She turned and began down the path, still holding the lantern._

 

_After walking for an hour, she came to a circular ruin of walls.It enclosed the remains of a tower with the roof blasted off. There was a low door facing the end of the path, and she walked up to it and pushed it open easily._

 

_By the light of her lantern, she could see piles of books on dozens of tables, and walls lined with empty wooden shelves. There were copper sconces arrayed around the walls. She made a spill from a scrap of paper, lit it from her lantern, and then set it to lighting up the old lamps in their sconces. The room brightened somewhat, and moonlight glowed through the cracks in the walls._

 

_Set in the floor was a round reflecting pool, which mirrored the moon in the sky. She walked around it, wondering how deep it went. It was almost impossible to walk around the room, there were so many tables groaning with dusty books in no perceivable order. She ran her finger in the dust on the spines and tried to divine what her purpose in this place could be._

 

_“Hello,” she heard a voice say._

 

_She looked around but could see no other person._

 

_“Down here, in the water.” She looked into the pool and saw that a bottle-nosed creature had surfaced to talk. It was a dolphin._

 

_“Hello,” she answered, “Who are you and what is this place?”_

 

_The dolphin answered, “I’m the librarian. And this is the Archive of the Empire. Scholars travelled from all over the galaxy to consult the wisdom here. Then the fairy king came in the guise of a dragon and blasted it, when we would not give up our treasures.”_

 

_“I got kind of salty about that, so he turned me into a dolphin. Men,” said the librarian._

 

_“I’ve been sent here to do something, to help save the prince,” the girl said. “I’m not sure what it is though.”_

 

_“Well, you can start by helping to sort these books,” said the librarian, “the lack of thumbs is a problem these days, for me.”_

 

_“What is the system for sorting the books?” she asked._

 

_“I don’t remember clearly anymore,” said the dolphin, “dolphins don’t read much.”_

 

_“How do I know if sorting the books is really what I’m supposed to be doing here?” said the girl. “They weren’t really specific about what the tasks were.”_

 

_The librarian said, “Well, you think about it, and while you’re thinking about it, you can look and see if you can find the catalogue. I saw it fly when the dragon blasted the tower. It’s a big ivory colored book with a chain on it.”_

 

_The girl went searching, and finally under one of the windows, she found a book like that, but it had its cover torn and several pages missing or singed in half._

 

_She took the catalogue back to the dolphin with a feeling of dismay and worry that she was wasting precious time instead of figuring out what she needed to do next to lift the curse._

 

_“Look, it is very damaged. I suppose I can’t sort the books now, since this is incomplete,” she said._

 

_“Nonsense,” said the librarian, “get some extra paper. Look through the book and see what the system is. You can recreate most of it when you get a hang of the pattern that is left in the record. Do you have anything to write with?”_

 

_The girl took her pens and ink out of the pouch at her belt and showed the dolphin._

 

_“Great,” the dolphin said. “You’re going to be a big help. There’s a writing desk over by the other wall of the scriptorium, you can clear it off and work over there.”_

 

_The girl felt a bit fretful but didn’t want to disappoint another victim of the fairy king. She took the giant book over to the desk and cracked it open carefully to examine what remained of its information.The script was crabbed and difficult to read and looked to be in some kind of code. The girl sighed. This was going to be a very long night. She copied the text down from the first page onto another piece of paper and scanned it carefully, trying to---_

 

Rey roused with a nagging sense of being bogged down by some kind of complex task as she surfaced to consciousness, her mind trying over and over again to solve it. Suddenly she snapped awake, her mind still working on turning over solutions as she blinked into consciousness. She felt a sense of relief; those dreams were the worst--the ones that kept giving you puzzles to decipher that just kept getting more complicated.

 

Then she remembered where she was, and the night she’d had. Maybe staying asleep in a troublesome dream wouldn’t be so bad after all. The problems she had while awake were also complicated. Too wrapped in a sense of uneasiness to fall back to sleep, she opened her eyes, and stretched out a hand to feel for Ben. He was still asleep, curled up tight with his arms enfolded around himself. Rey wished he was awake, so she could feel some reassurance that things were ok, and that she hadn’t toppled their still budding rapport with too many personal revelations.

 

Ben was frowning slightly in his sleep, and Rey slid out of the covers carefully, so as not to disturb him.She put his flannel shirt back on and found a pair of his shorts that must have been left over from when he was a teen and put them on.

 

After a trip to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth, Rey wandered around the house. It had several rooms, most of them guest bedrooms, with doors shut. The Organa house was not in use presently for robust entertaining, but it must have been very active with visitors at one point.She found a study on the third floor, which had masculine décor, but didn’t reflect Ben’s tastes. Rey crept in, curious.

 

It was paneled in a dark tropical wood, and the ceiling was painted in a soft dark blue. There were photos of large boats on the walls, and framed sea charts. Old nautical and navigational instruments were locked in glass cabinets on display. A small skylight of faceted planes of glass was set in the ceiling, making the room appear underwater.

 

Rey spotted a photo portrait of Leia with a man with frosty eyes and a toothy smile hung in a place of pride in the center of one wall.

 

This was Han Solo’s study.

 

Rey had a vague sense of being judged and found wanting by the portrait. A shade inhabited the room, the presence of someone who had little time for nonsense like art, or heartbreak, and who could talk his way out of anything. She felt resentment toward a man who she didn’t know and had never met. Rey roamed away from the assessing eyes of Han Solo and wended her way among the displays of bric-a-brac and smaller framed photos. Han was in several of them, with politicians and other public figures she recognized.

 

There was a picture of Ben in his dress blues, and several of him with his men in several combat zones. Han’s study was a shrine to alpha masculinity, to men who had dared and achieved. The only woman represented in the room was Leia. 

 

Near the back of a group of portraits there was a dusty frame standing up and tilted somewhat away from view. Rey picked it up and saw it was a picture of a much younger Ben.

 

He was wearing a black trenchcoat, black combat boots, and had shaved the sides of his head. He was perched on a bench, squinting in the sun at a day in a park, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he found himself. Rey figured his age in the picture to be about 16 or 17.

 

Ben looked like someone she wished she’d known all of her life. _I would have been your friend,_ thought Rey. _We could have gone to shows with our friends, we’d sneak cigarettes together, maybe kiss. I’d’ve called you on the phone, and you’d have talked to me, even if you were busy. You would have warned me about Hux._

 

_But the bad fairies got me, and they also got you._

 

With a guilty look at the portrait of Han, Rey slid out the photo, and placed the empty frame face down on the end table. Judging by the dust around the room, no one would miss it. 

 

She snuck downstairs like a thief to find her purse and to tuck the photo into her sketchbook.

 

Afterward, she wandered over to the laundry room and got her clothes out of the dryer and got changed in front of it, then folded Ben’s clothes and left them on top of a laundry pile in a basket.

 

Rey debated whether she should just let herself out and lock the door. She felt swallowed by cringe-inducing memories, and the sadness of splashing her toxic mess onto Ben.

 

Really, would anything in her life ever just work out smoothly? She followed the rules, kept herself up to high standards, worked hard, and she could still find anything good and just fuck it up.

 

Undecided, she walked to the kitchen to at least put some coffee on.

 

Ben had reached there before her.

 

“I should—”

 

“Rey,” said Ben.“What is it?”

 

Her pulse sped up, and she felt a tugging sensation of fatigue. She looked away.

 

Ben said, “You don’t have to worry about telling me about that stuff, if that’s what this is. I’m sorry I reacted that way—it just makes me sick. I could have stopped it from happening years ago.”

 

Rey drifted over to him and he slipped his arms around her waist. He whispered in her ear, “Hey, I told you some pretty gnarly shit about me. Where is this coming from?”

 

“Well, I was an adult who should have known better, I wasn’t a child,” answered Rey. That wasn’t the real reason.

 

She didn’t want to tell him she was afraid now--that she finally had something to lose, and she didn’t know if she was brave enough to keep being honest, keep showing him her broken parts. She’d let Ben start filling up the hollow spaces inside her. 

 

Ben kissed the top of her head.“I can feel you thinking under there.” 

 

Rey stretched out her arms and hugged him back. 

 

***

 

Later that night, back at home, Rey reflected on what Leia had told her about Ben the day before. The import of the conversation had faded somewhat with the other revelations of the day. She rubbed her nose, sorting out the various bits of information Ben’s mother had tried to relay. Was she trying to warn her away from Ben? Or was she just being solicitous?

 

She suddenly remembered the note in her purse, dropped from one of the books that Ben had gifted her with.Rey went and got her purse and took it into her room. First, she extracted her purloined photo of Ben, and stood it up against her computer screen with a smile at his dour face.

 

Rey took the envelope into bed with her and got under the covers in her clothes, feeling like she needed privacy to read Ben’s note, even in her room. She opened the envelope carefully and pulled out heavy linen paper. The handwriting was different than the technical printing he used for writing in his sketchbook—the lines flowed and wove in an archaic-looking script.

 

_Rey,_

 

_Yes, I am practicing my calligraphy and showing off. It’s been awhile since I brushed off this skill. I thought you’d get a kick out of it._

 

_I wanted to tell you how much these last few weeks have meant to me. I didn’t think I would ever have anyone in my life ever again. I feel better and stronger around you. I hope you get something out of this too, though I don’t know what that is._

 

_This is more than just a love note, I am avoiding what I need to tell you. I had homework from my therapist. Yes, I have one. He told me I needed to be honest with you and tell you I am in treatment for some things, things that could make a relationship with me difficult, so you have all the information. I was supposed to tell you in person, but I couldn’t, and this is the compromise._

 

_I have been in treatment for over a year, for post-traumatic stress. I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want to talk about it. I also didn’t want to burden you with it. I’m better now than I have been for a while. I worried about risking any personal connection, with you. But I’m hopeful that things are doing better now.Anyway. This is difficult. Especially in chancery italics. This was probably not the smartest plan._

 

_Well, this is almost to the end of the page, so I might as well finish. I hope you will stick around for as long as you want—I’ve never met anyone like you. You make me want to say and do things I haven’t wanted in years. I didn’t expect to find someone like you. Now I sound needy, so I’m going to end this while I still have a shred of pride left._

 

_Ben_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from a lyric from "Maybe It's Imaginary" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/maybe-its-imaginary/
> 
> In my headcanon for this story, Ben's relationship with Han was difficult and his father was very different from him, and a bit distant as a result, especially as Ben got into his teens. I otherwise love Han Solo and didn't want to do him dirty, so please forgive me? 
> 
> Love to all reading, commenting, leaving kudos. It's been a tough week at work, and I mostly looked forward to posting tonight. I hope you have a lovely weekend. xo


	26. It’s a recipe handed down from father to son for a thousand years

Early March 2008

 

 

“My mother invited us to go to an opening at the end of the month for a show she’s been involved in in LA. I mean, she pretty much ordered me to bring you,” Ben said.

 

Rey looked at him for a moment. “I wasn’t sure she liked me that much,” she said.

 

“What? No, she likes you. I think she thinks you’re too good for me,” answered Ben. “In fact, I’m pretty sure of it.”

 

Rey laughed. She was glad to hear it, she really did like Leia and wanted to feel close to her.

 

Ben asked, “Why did you think she didn’t like you?”

 

“She just seemed a little wary of me the last time I saw her,” Rey answered.

 

“Hmmm,” said Ben.

 

“What’s the show? I’d love to go, just let me check my schedule,” said Rey.

 

Ben picked a brochure up from the kitchen counter and read it with a raised eyebrow and a snooty tone: ‘ _An exploration of the history of mystical symbolism, uniting painting and digital media, to create a unique time-based synergy that will map—”_

 

Rey laughed. “Ok ok, I get it. It does sound interesting though.”

 

Ben was teaching her how to cook. Since his family had a big fancy kitchen that hardly got used, they were both experimenting with different dishes that took up the whole area to prepare.Ben had found a book of archaic cookery on the shelves in his mother’s study one day, and they had selected a few recipes to attempt.

 

Naturally, there had to be some substitutions, since not all the ingredients were available anymore. Wandering all over town to find things as close as possible to the recipe had been fun.

 

They had invited Finn, Rose, and Poe over to test the results after. Ben and Rey were running behind, because finding excuses to feed each other things and play in the kitchen was too tempting.

 

“Rey, we’ve got to get that meat in the oven, or we’re just going to have to order pizza,” said Ben. 

 

Rey chuckled. “You don’t want Poe judging us, he’s a cook.”

 

“Oh, so no pressure,” Ben answered.

 

The two of them flew into action, with Ben directing traffic in the kitchen, and Rey chopping vegetables and getting flour all over her face and hands.

 

An hour later the doorbell rang, and Ben flew out to go answer the door, with orders to Rey to keep an eye on the bread baking in the oven.She heard the sounds of her friends entering and introducing themselves and hoped everyone would like each other.

 

Rose came up and hugged Rey, trying to avoid getting flour on her dress, and said, “Look at you!”

 

“Hey hey, check out our girl,” said Finn. “This definitely looks like it involved more than the toaster oven.”

 

Poe was looking around the kitchen, checking out the fixtures with an experienced eye. He put down a grocery bag and extracted some bottles of wine and a bouquet of flowers. 

 

“We should get these in some water, is there a vase?” he asked.

 

Ben said, “Err, maybe? Check up around there,” he said, gesturing to a bank of cabinets. Poe hummed happily and set to exploring.

 

Everyone chatted happily, and Rey opened the wine to let it breathe.Poe had found a huge glass boxy-looking thing for the flowers and was cutting stems, while Rose filled up the vase with water.

 

Rey felt a sense of relief. _This is working,_ she thought.

 

***

 

Later, after everyone had left, Rey and Ben took the last of the wine into the living room and sat on the couch to finish off the evening.

 

“That was a success, I thought,” said Rey, happily.

 

Ben snuggled into her ear, “You mean more than the food. Were you worried about me?”

 

“Well, they are all a little protective of me,” said Rey. “Sometimes I think I’m their group project.”

 

There had been one awkward patch when Poe brought up his anti-war work. Ben had simply lifted his eyebrows. Finn, however, sitting next to Poe, had evidently intervened by thumping the side of Poe’s ankle under the table with his foot. Poe yelped, and Rose said, “What’s wrong with you two?”

 

Mostly though, conversation had gone smoothly with no long silences or negativity. Rey felt like she could finally relax, knowing her friends approved.

 

“I’m thinking of maybe moving into one of the other bedrooms,” said Ben. “Maybe it’s time to live in a grown-up room. There are a couple of guest suites upstairs that no one has been in in years. They have bathrooms attached.”

 

Rey smiled. “You mean, we could pretend to be adults? That could be fun, though I’d miss some of the stuffed animals and action figures.”

 

Ben said, “We’ll pick some and move them in there. You can also bring some more stuff over and keep it here for when you stay over.”

 

Rey would miss some of the nostalgic charm of his old room, but having a nice big private bathroom attached to the bedroom had enormous appeal.

 

“I think there are some big tubs, in the bathrooms too. Should we go find out?” asked Ben. He stood up and reached down for her hand.

 

“What a great idea,” said Rey. “One of your best yet.”

 

***

 

 

_“What does this even have to do with saving the prince?” the girl asked the dolphin._

 

_She’d been transcribing the mysterious code from the catalogue for hours, filling in with conjecture where there was no information to transfer from the damaged recording. The girl was almost done, but she felt awash with misgivings. So much time had already passed._

 

_“Never mind worrying about that,” said the dolphin. “Bring the book over here when you are done and start sorting these shelves.”_

 

_The girl gritted her teeth. It was possible her entire effort was all rubbish. She might put the books back and they’d be in a nonsense order that was nothing like the system that had governed them before._

 

_“All right,” said the girl, “I have something. I’ll put the books back, but I don’t know—”_

 

_The dolphin said, “Just hurry girl.”_

 

_The girl huffed, trying to not feel offended, and started sorting books from the loaded piles on all of the tables. She worked for hours, pulling books from here and there, sorting them according to the piecemeal cataloguing job she’d attempted. Her sense of anxiety rose. Maybe she should just stop and try to figure out what she was really supposed to be accomplishing. Surely on a quest such as this, she would have felt called to the true course of action._

 

_Finally, however, she was done. Feeling dubious, she surveyed her work. The reconstruction of Archive of the Empire should have been guided by someone who knew what they were doing._

 

_There was a flash of light._

 

_A woman with short salt and pepper hair, wearing pewter-colored robes, was standing next to the reflecting pool in the chamber._

 

_“Oh hey, you did it,” the woman said. “And you restored the librarian too, good job--I was a little tired of fish.”_

 

_“But I don’t think I did it right,” the girl said.“I made all kinds of mistakes.”_

 

_“You made a decision to act,” said the woman. “There might be some errors in the process, but without your help, the disarray would never have been improved in this place. Now others can take up where you left off.”_

 

_The girl looked into the reflecting pool, now calm and dark. It felt good that she had helped, but what would she do next?_

 

_“But I still don’t know how to free the prince,” the girl said. “I thought I’d find answers here.”_

 

_“You discovered a starting point,” said the librarian. “And the beginning never starts with the answer. If you let the quest for perfection guide your hand, you will never start anything.”_

 

_“Well,” said the girl, “I should be going. The old rat said I had more tasks to perform, and time is running out.”_

 

_The librarian hugged the girl. “Not everyone would have done what you have done, and for that, we thank you.” She handed the girl a small book from her pocket. “You’ll know when you need this,” she said._

 

_The girl added the slim volume to her pouch. Then she found her way out, and back to the path, and turned her feet toward the crossroads, lamp in hand._

 

_The old rat raised a brow at her return. “That seems to have proceeded satisfactorily,” he said._

 

_“I honestly don’t know,” said the girl._

 

_“Well, might as well head to the next one,” the rat said. He gestured to the left-hand path. The girl turned down in the direction he indicated and walked for another hour._

 

_She came to a small assemblage of buildings, all built in differing styles. One larger building caught her eye, and she headed that way, her lantern guiding her._

 

_Once she entered through the door, she gave a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light indoors._

 

_She heard a rattle, and a hiss._

 

_‘Little ghost,’ said a voice, ‘I have tasted your heart.’_

 

_The girl looked toward the direction of the voice—there was a shining copper serpent, coiled on--_

 

Shit.

 

Rey woke up in a cold sweat. These dreams were getting more and more vivid. Her heart was racing, and she felt around to look for a clock to see the time. Then she realized that she and Ben had ended up in one of the guest rooms after all, and nothing was familiar.

 

She gently moved her foot under the covers to try to get a feel for where Ben was in the bed. Things had gotten complicated under the covers during the course of the evening, after they’d explored the bath tub. Complicated and moist. Her hair was still a little damp.

 

Rey peered around the dark, trying to find the entrance to the bathroom. She thought she spotted a darker shape in the shadows that looked like a door, and headed there carefully, with soft footfalls. Once there, she closed the door and turned on the light, and found a huge white fluffy towel, which she applied to her hair.

 

She became aware of some spooky sounding noises that she could hear faintly from under the towel, and she stopped, frozen. Rey didn’t believe in haunted houses, but it sounded like a spirit, moaning from the walls.

 

 _These old houses make all kinds of weird noises_ , she tried to assure herself. Still, she took the towel off of her head and tried to get a clearer sense of what was making that sound.

 

 _Ben,_ she realized with horror. **_It’s Ben._**

 

She ran out back into the dark, further blinded from the light in the bathroom, and she hissed, following the sounds back to the bed.

 

Ben was writhing under the sheets, his arms rigid, and his jaw tight, and was making inhuman sounds, which were getting louder. His scars seemed white even in the dark of the room, and his face was a mask of pain and fear.

 

Rey didn’t know what do to. _Is it sleepwalkers that you aren’t supposed to wake up?_ she wondered, wracked with concern. She was afraid to shock him by waking him up too abruptly, but he looked terrified and miserable.

 

“Ben,” she whispered. “You’re having a nightmare.”

 

It looked worse than that, but she didn’t have any words for what this was.

 

Rey was reaching out a tentative hand to shake his shoulder, fearful of scaring him more, when suddenly his eyes flew open and he shouted. She backed away carefully, trying to see what he was doing in the darkness. His torso had practically elevated when he woke up, and she could hear him panting in rapid hissing breaths.

 

The only light in the room was coming from his eyes, and the person looking back looked nothing like Ben. She heard an animal-like groan, as he laid himself back down, head resting on the pillow, facing toward her, but not seeing her. His eyes remained open and staring, as if his body had been abandoned by him and a ghost left inside instead.

 

Trembling, she made her way carefully downstairs, intent on getting at least a glass of water for him, if he were in any shape to drink it when he arrived back at a state of awareness.

 

She’d never felt so helpless.

 

Or angry.

 

Once downstairs, Rey stood on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor, willing her rage down. The unfairness of it all made her jaw clench and she wanted to punch something.

 

She wanted to live in a world that didn’t take men like Ben and grind them up until there was a traumatized husk, struggling to be a person again. But those feelings weren’t going to help him right now. She felt a swell of love and care for Ben, who had been trying so hard to enter life--her life. 

 

This had to be something they could beat together. The last few months had been deliriously happy. _A relapse_ , she thought, _this is something fixable_.

 

Rey found a glass and filled it up with water and turned to take it back upstairs.

 

_I can do this. I can do this._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Autumnsoupgirl": https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/autumngirlsoup/
> 
> "You needed something to get  
> your teeth into  
> And in my voodoo kitchen you said  
> “I’ve got something to show you,  
> It’s a recipe handed down from father to son  
> For a thousand years, and it goes with those hot salt tears.”
> 
> I can't believe this story is almost up to 3000 hits--thank you for making a writer happy this week. I appreciate the comments, kudos, and readers. xo


	27. Look to the stars above and wish it so

March 22nd 2008

 

_‘Why do you call me ghost, serpent? And what do you mean by saying you have tasted my heart?’_

 

_The girl frowned._

_Light shone from the moon outside the windows, gleaming on the creature’s fiery metallic scales. Its eyes were a harsh blue and bore into hers._

_‘I consumed your spirit, and with that, I made you disappear,” said the serpent. “Why do you think you live like you do, exiled in a hut on an island, chasing dreams?’_

_The girl thought of all the days and of all the nights, marking time, not knowing where she had come from._

_Wondering where she should be going._

_‘I don’t remember this encounter of which you speak, Lord Serpent. But it is true I have been waiting,’ she said._

_She heard an evil chuckle from the creature. ‘I removed all memory of our meeting from your mind. My master has granted me many gifts. If you were to make him your master, he would grant the same to you. The fairy king is wise.’_

_‘I would never pledge myself to the fairy king,’ she exclaimed. ‘I have come to this place to help free the prince from his curse.’_

_‘You would do better to leave this place and never come back. The prince has no need of a girl like you. Any woman he liked could help him better than you can.’_

_The girl recoiled from the harsh words of the serpent. ‘That may be so, but I’m the only one here,’ she said. ‘And you did not make me disappear—I am standing right here in front of you.’_

_‘To find the prince again you will need the map. I tore it to shreds,’ said the serpent. ‘Your task is a hopeless one. The pieces are scattered. Return to your island.’_

 

_The girl felt like crying, but didn’t want the serpent to see her humiliation, so she turned quickly and escaped outside. Hot tears formed in her eyes until she couldn’t see._

_She felt a tug on the cuff of her pants and looked down. There was a crow, pulling at her with its beak._

_‘Hello. You can call me Abelard,’ the crow said._

_‘I’ve seen you before, in a dream,’ said the girl. ‘You were playing in a garden with a stick.’_

_‘Humans,’ the crow said, with a scornful toss of his head. ‘I’m an astronomer. I was taking measurements.’_

_‘Weren’t you a human once?’ asked the girl. ‘Is your present form a curse from the fairy king?’_

_The crow looked at her as if she were an oddity. ‘No, why would I want to be a human? I am under a curse, however. I angered the fairy king by defying his creature, the serpent.’_

_‘The serpent says I need a map to find the prince, but that he destroyed it,’ said the girl._

_‘I have a piece of it,’ said the crow. ‘Come with me, and we shall look at it together.’_

_‘What good is one piece of a map?’ said the girl, feeling despondent._

_‘You give up too easily,’ said the crow. ‘Follow me.’_

_She followed the crow to a large building at the outskirts of the little village. There was a telescope sticking out of the domed roof. The inside of the building was filled with maps, calipers, astrolabes, compasses, and other tools of celestial navigation._

 

_The crow pulled out a small drawer in a cabinet, and extracted a piece of parchment, with lines and stars inscribed on it._

_‘Is my task to find all the other pieces of the map?’ the girl said wearily._

_‘If we had an ephemeris, we could reconstruct the rest of the map,’ said the crow. ‘It’s a book with calculations in it already tabulated.’_

_The girl thought of the book the librarian had given her and took it from her pouch. ‘What do they look like? Is this one?’ she asked._

_‘Clever girl,’ the crow exclaimed. ‘Open it here where I can read it.’_

***

 

Rey loved the feeling of the wind in her face when Ben was driving her in his car. Rey was looking forward to the art opening—she hoped her usual vintage dress and Mary Janes would be fancy enough for the occasion. She had never intersected with his mother’s rarified world of high art and finance and was a little nervous. Ben didn’t seem concerned.

 

As usual, she and Ben threaded their fingers together on the front seats as he drove down the freeway. They’d decided to take the 101, and Rey looked out at the ocean as they sped by it. She’d dug up some of her old college mixtapes from her storage closet to take on this road trip, and she and Ben sang along to all the songs.

 

Since the morning last month when Ben had had his nightmare, things had been back to normal. Ben had been quiet and subdued the next morning, and a little shaky, but didn’t mention anything about what had happened, so Rey didn’t either. She assumed Ben had worked on something with his therapist, since nothing like that had occurred afterwards.

 

_He’s recovering, there are bound to be some bumps,_ she thought. She squeezed his hand harder. He was hard at work taking classes at Niima, and his work was starting to develop focus. Rey knew that he’d been taking photos and some video footage at the VA hospital, and talking to the vets there. It seemed to also serve as a form of healing.

 

She was doing some of her own work, in between her jobs. Some watercolors based on her strange and vivid dreams had started to crop up in her art. There was an otherworldly nature to these works that made her slightly nervous. Her work had always been on the side of science, and it felt odd to be plunged into the world of symbolism and mysticism.

 

“Maybe you can talk to some of the gallery people tonight about your work,” said Ben. “Mom would probably be thrilled to introduce you.” 

 

Rey winced. “Maybe? I don’t know. My work is kind of in a weird place. And I feel bad leaning on your mom like that. Like it wouldn’t be real.”

 

Ben laughed. “Rey, most people’s careers are based on who you know. You don’t have to feel bad for knowing us. A lot of people less deserving get ahead with fewer scruples.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll think about it. Tonight, I just want to look at the art,” said Rey.

 

It was the first big public outing for both of them together, and Rey wanted to just focus on enjoying the evening. Ben looked amazing. His mother must have bullied him into a suit.

 

There was a crush of bodies at the entrance to LACMA, but Ben maneuvered them through the crowd effortlessly.  They wended their way through the galleries until they got to the one where Leia was holding court.

 

The rooms were darkened and there were beautiful projections on the wall of digital art, woven in with drawings and paintings. Some of the pieces were interactive and people were listening to, looking at, and touching different objects in the show. There was a star map from an old engraving projected on the ceiling.

 

Rey hurried to examine each piece, with Ben following, his arm tucked behind her elbow. It was a masterful show. Each piece seemed to stich meaning into the next piece, like lines of poetry.

 

Ben spotted his mother, surrounded by art-lovers and sycophants, and grimaced. Maz was also in her orbit, laughing with an unrestrainedly loud chuckle.

 

“We should go say hi,” he said. “Let’s get some food first though.”

 

He guided Rey by the elbow to the catered food tables, covered with real food like satay skewers and meatballs, and not just cheese and crackers. Rey loaded up, sensing that this might be her dinner. Armed with a plate full of food and a large glass of wine, Rey made her way to an empty spot on a bench. Ben sank down next to her gratefully and attacked his food.

 

When they were both fortified by protein, Ben guided himself and Rey over to Leia to go check in and say hello.

 

“Hello, my children,” said Leia, leaning in for hugs from them both. “So nice of you to come.”

 

Rey said, “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

 

Leia said, “Well, I know how busy you two are.” Her eyes twinkled, and Ben coughed abruptly. Maz’ eyes got wide, and Rey tried to look innocent.

 

The little crowd around Leia examined Rey and Ben curiously, and Rey said, “We’re going to check out the rest of the show. See you later?”  Ben was already edging backwards. 

 

He shook his wine glass toward Rey’s and asked, “Refill?” She handed him her empty glass.

 

“Yes, please,” answered Rey, with a smile. Her eye was caught by an installation on a nearby wall, and she wandered over to see what was going on.

 

There was a Bakelite telephone placed on a shelf in the middle of the wall, and people were picking it up and listening to it. A hidden projector displayed a small square screen above the telephone, with a barrage of rapidly changing images.

 

Rey edged closer, listening to people’s reactions.

 

“Oh, man, you have to check this out!”

 

The title of the piece was _I Tell Your Future_.

 

“Wow, it’s like it knows me,” someone else exclaimed, placing the phone receiver down in the cradle.

 

Intrigued, Rey pressed in, hoping to get a turn. Finally, the crowd thinned, and she was in front of the installation by herself.

 

She picked up the phone receiver and held it to her ear and peered curiously at the images on the wall above.

 

‘ _I know you’ve seen the map,_ ’ a voice murmured.

 

Alchemical images and scientific diagrams flashed in the projections.

 

There was a throbbing pulse on the line, as if the voices were connecting from far away.

 

‘ _I know what I have to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it,_ ’ the voice sighed.

 

Images flashed faster and faster on the projection, and there was a tangle of voices on the phone, as if several phone lines had been crossed.

 

On the screen, a man with dark wings shook out his feathers and looked prepared to fly away, as if trying to escape.

 

Suddenly the noise on the line cleared, and there was a clear and sibilant reptilian hiss. A rattlesnake appeared in the projections, coiling and moving quickly toward the foreground as if coming for Rey, and it seemed so real that she jumped backwards, startled.

 

From across the room, she heard Ben’s voice, snarling loudly. Rey turned, the phone still held to her ear, to look for him.

 

He was standing nose to nose with Armitage Hux, leaning in so close he was practically on top of him. Ben was backing Hux step by step against a wall, furiously. Hux was grinning widely--his back molars were exposed.

 

Rey held out a hand in horror, as if she could freeze them both with a gesture. She crashed the phone receiver down into the cradle and started moving toward the men. People in the gallery were staring at them both, and conversations were dying down to observe what was going on.

 

She crept up next to Ben. Hux flashed her a jubilant smirk when he spotted her.

 

“Ben,” Rey said.

 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t take him out right here,” Ben answered, still looking at Hux, and not at Rey.

 

Rey gulped, but forged on. “Ben, your mother. There’s one reason. Two, my old dean is here. And half the art world of California. That’s three. If any of us ever want to work in the arts after this night, please, leave this be,” she pleaded.

 

“That’s right, _Ben_ ,” purred Hux. “Be a good little monster and do what the girl tells you. _Some of us are important.”_

 

Ben clenched a fist at his side and seemed totally prepared to swing it right into Hux and was just looking for a likely soft spot.

 

“Ben, if you hit him, everyone will ask why, and then we’ll have to tell them something,” Rey tried to reason with him. If he hurt Hux, her story would come out, since everyone would demand some rational explanation of why Leia Organa’s son had beat up a regionally respected artist at a blue-chip art show. Maybe Hux even had a piece in this show--it was in the realm of possibility.

 

Ben didn’t look at her, but whirled around and stalked out, without saying a word.

 

Rey looked up at Hux, who was smiling triumphantly at the retreating back of his old schoolmate.  She felt a stab of rage.

 

“You are a tiny man,” she said. “A worm.” She wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but she couldn’t stop herself.

 

Rey continued, “You’re a hollow shell of a human, and you’ll never be as half as brave or strong as he is.”

 

Hux curled a lip. “Your precious _Ben_ is probably out sobbing in the parking lot right now. It figures he’d find _you_ to protect him. Solo was always whipped by females. Even his failure of a career in the military was all for show. He could never handle real power.”

 

Rey realized several curious onlookers were still attracted by this ongoing scene in the gallery, and she was torn apart with concern for Ben. However, Hux looked smaller to her than he’d ever looked, and she could feel her muscles relaxing instead of feeling tense and scared.

 

She smiled up at Hux and pretended to take his arm in a friendly gesture. Rage had catapulted her to a plane of reaction that was strangely calm and deliberate.

 

“You know, I don’t think you have any idea of what real power is. But someday, somehow, you’re going to get a taste of what it feels like against you. And you’ll have no idea what is coming,” she released his arm. Hux looked at her oddly, confused, and jerked his arm out of her hand.

 

Rey turned away from him and headed in the same direction she’d seen Ben leaving.

 

She got to the parking lot, spotted the Impala, and headed toward it, though she didn’t see Ben around it or sitting in it. Rey hurried with concern, swiveling her head around the parking lot, trying to spot him. She didn’t have the car keys and didn’t know what to do next. Rey could sense her temporary bravado swirling away down the drain, and she felt panicked, wondering where Ben could have gone.

 

With no other options, she went to the car, pondering what to do. As she got closer, she spotted some motion from the back seat. Ben was lying down, shivering like a fever victim.

 

“Ben, let me in,” she pleaded. All of the doors were locked. She saw him shake his head, and she saw that look in his eyes again, as if he’d taken leave of his body and there was nobody home. Rey knocked on a window again.

 

Tears were in her eyes now. “Ben, I have no way of getting home unless you let me in the car. You have to help me here.”

 

Something shifted in his face, if not quite the old Ben, at least some realization that what she said was true and he couldn’t leave her stranded.  He lifted himself up slightly and unlocked the front driver’s door from his place in the back.

 

Ben threw the keys into the driver’s seat. Then he laid back down.

 

Rey opened the door and scrambled for the keys before he could change his mind. She took deep heaving breaths, settling into the driver’s seat. She heard Ben moaning softly from the back.

 

“I’ll get you home, sweetheart, just try to—try to relax,” she said sadly.

 

“I hate this,” Ben groaned with pain.

 

Rey said, “I know, Ben. I know.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from the song "We'll Never Pass This Way Again" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/well-never-pass-this-way-again/
> 
> Wow, what a week. Lots of intense and tragic news out of my state--mass shooting and wildfires. It's been an emotional roller coaster, for sure. Sorry this isn't a more cheerful chapter, but since this was long-finished, it arrived just where it arrived. This story does end happily and around the winter holidays. 
> 
> Lots of Adam content this week--we started with the Vulture interview and ended in Cabo. Being someone with social anxiety, I find his reticence relatable. One nice thing to do to cheer him up for having to emerge from his cave, if you have the extra income, is to sign up as a sustainer for AITAF. https://aitaf.org/about/
> 
> I donate a little per month, and it puts you on their email list, and you get the warm glow of doing something cool for the org so the nervous head of it doesn't have to solicit big money by selling out his integrity. ;) (Link to the interview if you happened to miss it: http://www.vulture.com/2018/11/adam-driver-in-conversation.html?utm_source=tw&utm_campaign=vulture&utm_medium=s1#comments) 
> 
> I used to work for an arts non-profit and "We have enough money," is not a phrase you will ever hear in that eco-system. Since this is an art-related fic, I thought I'd plug for team-art this week. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, commenting, or leaving kudos. No matter what the week is like, I know I have Saturday to be in this space, and I appreciate it. xo


	28. I’m the lightning that strikes you just before you hear the thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning--I'll update the main tags, but chapter tags: wartime violence and graphic detail of wartime injury, and stressful combat-related scenarios are described in flashback. Some description of thoughts created by extreme stress and disassociation.

March 22nd 2008, later that night, early morning March 23rd

 

 

 _Big hands, strong hands_ , Rey thought. _Come on Ben, work with me here._ He didn’t budge. She dropped his hands back down, not wanting to yank on his arms.

 

Exhausted or passed out, Ben was proving hard to dislodge from the back of his car. Rey was wrung out and wanted to get Ben up to their room, so he could really rest. She gripped the collar of his suit, wondering if the lapels would tear if she tried to pull him upwards so he was at least sitting.

 

It had been a grueling drive back to Niima, Rey had peered anxiously into the rear-view mirror as often as she could to see if there had been any improvement to Ben. He barely moved at all, with only a few agitated twitches. Night had fallen, and Rey’s attention was mostly taken with trying to find her way, while driving an unfamiliar car.

 

Rey rubbed her sweating palms onto the side of her dress, trying to think of another way to solve this problem. This Ben-sized predicament.

 

With a start, Ben woke up, and blinked, looking distressed. He sat up abruptly and saw Rey gaping at him from outside the car and groaned a bit.

 

“Keys,” he said, and held out his hand.

 

“Oh right,” said Rey. She handed him back his keys and stepped back from the vehicle to give him space to emerge. She started to raise her arms, to hug him, to help him, maybe hold him to the door.

 

He lurched out suddenly and brushed past her. Rey jumped back, and then pivoted to slam the car door shut. Ben was walking quickly up the drive, and she hurried to catch up with him, wondering if he was even aware she was really there.

 

He had unlocked the front door, and entered the house, leaving the front door open. Rey entered, feeling spooked. Ben hadn’t turned on any lights or waited for her. She tried not to feel hurt. Rey closed the door and locked it, and then ascended the staircase, trying to listen for his footfalls in the dark and quiet house.

 

“Ben,” she called in a loud whisper. “Where did you go?”

 

Rey headed to the suite Ben had claimed for them, feeling for light switches on the walls of the hallway.There wasn’t an ounce of light coming in from outside to light her way. She brushed her fingers along the wainscoting until she felt the doorframe of the room. There were no lamps turned on in the room.Rey went to switch on the overhead light from the wall plate inside the bedroom.

 

“Leave it off,” said Ben, from the bed. “Don’t…don’t come near me.”

 

Rey did as he asked and sat down sadly into a wing chair near the bed, but not too close.

 

“I just wanted to see if you were ok,” she said.

 

“I know. I know that you do. I just. I don’t want you to,” he said, strained. “You should go.”

 

“Ben,” Rey said, trying to swallow down tears. Was he angry at her about what had gone on at the gallery? For stopping him from hitting Hux?

 

“If it’s something I did, I—“, she said.

 

“NO, no. No, Rey,” answered Ben. “Quit fucking apologizing, all right?” She heard him toss around on top of the covers. The hard sounds of his shoes being taken off and dropping to the floor echoed into the room. Rey heard him lay down again.

 

“This has nothing to do with you. I don’t want you to see this, any of it. Not me, not this way,” he continued.

 

Rey softened, wanting to comfort him, and said “Ben, it doesn’t bother me, I—”

 

Ben cut in, “No? This doesn’t _bother_ you? No, it wouldn’t,” he said as if answering himself. “You should leave. You shouldn’t see me anymore.” She heard his body turn over on the bed.

 

Rey felt the roots of her hair go numb with horror, and the sensation travelled down quickly, making her arms and hands feel frozen and paralyzed.

 

“No, what do you mean?” Rey asked. She couldn’t think and felt like she was floating above her body, watching this scene play out, detached, hoping this wasn’t happening. That she’d wake up, and return to her body, and Ben’s words would have never been said.

 

“It doesn’t matter, what it means,” Ben answered.

 

Rey was angry and raised her voice in spite of herself--it sounded strained and thick to her ears. “Of course, it matters. _This matters to me.”_

 

Ben spat out, “I don’t matter. You don’t matter. None of this matters, because none of it is real. Nothing is real. It’ s all made up shit in our heads. We just think it matters. It doesn’t matter what I do, or what you do. We live our life according to these made-up concepts and never ask why.None of us really exist. We are sacks of meat, just trying to find shit like destiny, and make life mean something. It doesn’t mean anything. Even the words we speak are just noises we made up and decided to pretend mean something.”

 

“I can only handle the shit I can control. I want to forget feeling. I thought I wanted to remember, but it just triggers this—shit. I don’t want you around it. I can’t handle you seeing it. I don’t want you to see me this way. I never wanted anything but to feel like a man, with you. But, I can’t even have that. It’s pathetic.”

 

Rey felt a thick stream of tears falling as she stared numbly at his back.

 

Ben ground out, “I can’t even look at your face. I know you are sad, I know it should matter, and I should feel something. But I can’t even feel that.”

 

Rey heard his voice from where he was turned. “You should go. There’s nothing for you here.” He turned back over to face in her direction.

 

“What happened to you?” Rey demanded, anguished.

 

She thought she could just see his eyes in the dark, shining and vacant and deadly.

 

***

 

_Mitaka was opening a care package and shaking out the contents onto his bunk. A stream of random small objects tumbled on top of the bed roll with sad thumps and Mitaka peered into the mailing box and rattled it hopefully. Nothing else dropped out._

 

_“What did you get?” asked Solo. He was looking at his own mail, a very small and thin pile. There were no packages._

 

_“One of those packages filled with candy, baby wipes, gum, and condiment packets,” Mitaka replied sadly. “Why doesn’t anyone ever think to send porn?”_

 

_Solo lifted up a letter from his bunk and pretended to read the address. “Well, today may be your lucky day. Your wife sent me this,” he joked, waving the envelope._

 

_Mitaka replied, “You fucker.”_

 

_“Tell her I said hi,” he added._

 

_Solo and Mitaka had started out their relationship in the Marines at odds with each other, but over the years it had mellowed into respect, and even friendship. When both of them had nearly died in a training accident involving a cloud of white phosphorus, which ended up avoiding them because of wind drift, they’d bonded over the experience._

 

_They had served together, seen so much shit, and they’d rolled their eyes together over so many situations that had required them to unfuck them. Neither of them ever talked about why they’d joined. Ben sensed that Mitaka came from money, the way he did, and may have also signed up to prove something._

 

_Solo also never told Mitaka the reasons he volunteered for all the hairiest action he could get his hands on. Mitaka seemed to just follow along in his wake, as if sensing that his friend could use someone to keep an eye on him._

 

_No one wanted to hear about Ben’s need to keep killing Hux, so he never told anyone about that either._

 

_The first time he had seen Hux’ face in a firefight in Iraq, he had been so surprised, he’d stopped firing the 50 cal from the roof of the Humvee. It had been years since he’d seen Hux or even thought much about him._

 

_“What’s going on up there?” Mitaka had yelled up, alarmed._

 

_Solo got a hold of himself and resumed firing. Instead of fear, he felt a stab of pleasure in planting one in the fucker’s face. “Who’s surprised now, asshole?” he muttered under his breath._

 

_It was 2006, and it was their third tour of duty in Iraq.It could make the edges of a man start to fray somewhat._

 

_“Orders just came through,” their superior yelled through the flap of their tent. “Enemy in town, we have orders to go clear it out. Let’s kick some insurgent ass.”_

 

_Solo and Mitaka were tired of the house-to-house searches, looking for weapons and enemy combatants in the sad abodes of the suspicious civilian population. The opportunity to hop into a vehicle and blow some shit up made both of them perk up. Politics and the reality of war aside, the tedium could kill you just as fast as anything else._

 

_“Just another beautiful day in lovely and attractive Anbar Province,” said Mitaka. “Shall we?”_

 

_“Oh yes, let’s,” answered Solo. He grabbed his helmet and strapped into his body armor. “Last one back has to buy beer next time.”_

 

_Mitaka hustled on his gear while walking quickly toward their vehicle. Phas, their unit medic, was already there, looking impatient._

 

_She glared frostily at the both of them from her lofty height and said, “Any time, ladies.”_

 

_“We’ll be back in time for tea, Phasma,” said Mitaka, “don’t sweat it.”_

 

_“I don’t have all day to play nursemaid to you two brain-trusts,” she grumbled, swinging into her seat. Ben grinned and climbed up to his perch at the gun. He knocked twice on the roof of the vehicle and Mitaka accelerated toward the road leading to the village. They were joined by more Humvees, and the convoy proceeded down the dusty road at a rapid clip._

 

_Ben felt an excitement in his gut, tightening around his diaphragm. Everyone was fighting their own war, in their own way.His war had personal targets. He didn’t know what everyone else felt when gazing at possible insurgents, but for months he’d seen nothing in his sights but the face of Armitage Hux._

 

_That eight year old kid? Hux. An old woman with her shopping? Hux. A group of young men playing soccer? Also Hux._

 

 _He could feel voices screaming in his head, as he tried to remain feeling calm._ Focus, focus, _he thought._

 

_Their convoy made their target about twenty minutes later and the entire village was chaos. The higher-ups had all but given up this region to the insurgents, but Marines were trying to stick to the mission._

 

 _The convoy cleared lines, making their way to the center of town. Several blasts of gunfire came raining down from the shelled-out buildings. Ben trained his gun upwards, seeing the face of Hux in the windows, and volleyed machine gun fire into the buildings with precision._ Die bastard, die _. He fired again and again, smirking with triumph. This would never get old. A small, secret part of him hoped the war would never end. Ben didn’t tell anyone about that either._

 

_Their Humvee lurched to a halt, and Ben heard Phasma and Mitaka both shout with dismay from inside the vehicle. Ben couldn’t see what the obstacle was, but it seemed reckless and insane to be motionless like sitting ducks in the center of town. The high ground was all around them, and the buildings created a valley, caging in the Humvees._

 

_Absurdly, a young boy had started herding a small group of goats in front of their Humvee, just as the line was beginning to move again. After a moment, Mitaka got out of the vehicle to try to move things along so his people could rejoin the convoy. Solo watched this frustrating dance for a moment and got down from his perch on the roof to help Mitaka, hoping he could speak the language better than his friend._

 

_Phasma saw him come down and rolled her eyes at them both. Ben gave her a “be patient” look, and a thumbs-up. She just rolled her eyes again._

 

_Ben approached Mitaka to try to get him to get back in the vehicle, so Ben could handle the obstruction and have his driver prepared to move out when things were unstuck._

 

_That was the last thing Ben remembered until he saw Mitaka’s body lying like a torn ziplock bag spilling out guts and blood in front of him._

 

_“You asshole,” Ben thought, “you figured out a way to get out of owing me a beer.” He heard a woman’s voice high and shrill, but far away, faint like a whisper._

 

_Ben looked down at himself, and his chest was bristling with spiky debris covered with blood and flesh and then Phasma was looking into his face, trying to yell at him to do something and then, unexpectedly, he was lying down. Didn’t Phas know he couldn’t fucking hear her? His inner ears were heavy and stiff with loud percussive ringing._

 

_It was peculiar, he could see the whole thing happening from above, as if he were floating above his own body. The curious part of his mind tried to work out this puzzle, until it gave up and everything went dark._

 

***

 

Rey realized that Ben had finally gone to sleep, and so she slipped downstairs again. Early morning light from the false dawn was beginning to creep into the windows, and she felt exhausted. Ben had told her again to go, but it was too late to drive the long distance back to her apartment when she felt so tired.

 

At last she came to his old room, and she crawled gratefully under the covers of the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Rey shook like a frightened rabbit, shock wracking her body. She felt like she could sense Ben from several floors above her, and the thought of severing that connection permanently made her shake violently.

 

 _He can’t believe that this is really nothing, that this comes from nothing_ , she thought tearfully. Her heart physically ached. _He can’t believe that this didn’t really matter._

 

Her despairing spirits rolled like a ship on stormy waves. She tried to will him into seeing things differently in the morning with all of her heart. The thought of losing him forever was too much to bear. Finally, she dissolved into restless slumber.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Can't Stop Killing You" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/cant-stop-killing-you/
> 
> Thanks to all for comments, kudos, hits, love from afar. I've had a hard time finding any time to write for the past month, and seeing that people are still into this keeps my hope up that this one piece might not be a fluke and gives me energy until I can find time to write again. 
> 
> This was a tough chapter to write--I put it off a long time, putting pressure on myself that I had to do something like Generation Kill or Jarhead for just a few paragraphs. There are probably a lot of military-related inaccuracies, and I apologize. But it is the interaction of the characters that is probably most essential, so finally that thought carried the day, and I hope comes through. xo


	29. Lonely the track I decided to take

March 23rd, 2008

 

 

_The crow hopped over and paged through the tables, making enthusiastic croaking sounds. “This is very helpful. Can you take some notes while I dictate?”_

 

_The girl got out her ink and pens and prepared to write down what the crow told her._

 

_Gradually their notes and calculations progressed into recreating the fragments of the map, extrapolating from the piece that remained in the crow’s possession._

 

_“That serpent has nothing on an old crow,” said Abelard. Still, even with the ephemeris and the knowledge of the wise crow, there was still a piece of the map missing that calculations could not fill in._

 

_It was hard to not feel a collapse of hope._

 

_“Why are you so sad?” asked the crow?_

 

_“With the map incomplete, how will I ever find the prince to free him?” wailed the girl._

 

_“By helping me today, you have broken the curse the serpent laid on me,” said Abelard. “He said no one would ever believe a lowly crow.”_

 

_While she was happy that the crow was freed of his curse, it did nothing to help her own situation._

 

_“What was the curse?” she asked dully._

 

_The crow seemed to be listening in the distance. “He banished my wife to a far away tower and we could not communicate. Crows mate for life you know, leaving me to pine for her these many years. But, now I hear my Heloise.”_

 

_A flurry of black feathers burst in through an upper open window, and new shrieks of joyful croaking filled the observatory chamber. The two birds embraced and hopped together and danced in their happiness at finally being together again. They talked for some time in the language of crows, murmuring endearments and catching up on news of each other._

 

_Heloise spotted the girl and hopped to her side. “My husband tells me that we have you to thank for my freedom. He says that you have also been separated from your mate and cannot find him again. This may help.” She gestured with her beak to her left leg._

 

_The girl noticed a tube attached to the leg of the crow and she gently detached it. Inside was a rolled-up piece of parchment._

 

_The girl examined it for a moment, puzzled, and then exclaimed, “It’s the missing piece of the map!”_

 

_The door to the observatory slammed open, and the wily serpent rose up in a fury in the doorway._

 

_“You will never find the prince, I will not allow it!” he hissed._

 

_Abelard extracted the fragment of the map from the girl’s hand and laid the last piece into the gap in their map, completing it. There was a flash of light, and the map levitated into the air, mocking the serpent._

 

_Suddenly, there was an eruption of flame in the doorway. When the smoke cleared there was a charred snake corpse left behind._

 

_“Well, that’s an improvement to his appearance,” remarked Heloise._

 

_“Let’s get you on your way,” said Abelard. The map rolled up of its own accord and slid itself into the open pouch containing the girl’s ink and pens. She made sure everything was secure and fastened the pouch to her belt._

 

_The two birds led her out to the main roadway and croaked their farewells to her. The girl looked back, and they were playing together happily. She waved to them, but they didn’t notice, so involved were they in each other. The girl smiled._

 

***

 

Rey woke up feeling a strange sense of dejá vu. She wondered where she was. Then she remembered last night.

 

She felt like sand had poured into her gullet, it made it hard to take in air.

 

Rey looked at the nightstand to see what time it was and spotted a folded-up piece of paper next to a bottle of water.

 

With hope, Rey opened up the note.

 

_Dear Rey,_

 

_Ben left early this morning, and I saw him on my way in._

 

_Come to the kitchen when you are up. We’ll talk._

 

_Hydrate._

 

_Leia_

 

Rey’s gut sank at realizing Ben had left without saying goodbye, and that she was sleeping in Leia’s home where she was no longer welcome as a guest. She took sips of the water, since her mouth felt dank and sour from crying. Rey was sure her eyes must look like blisters.

 

She dressed hurriedly in her clothes from last night, which made her appear like a badly dressed doll in the morning light. There wasn’t anything she could do about her hair and face. Rey scurried down the hallway and toward the kitchen.

 

Rey was trembling as she entered the kitchen but was trying to pull herself together when she spotted Leia sitting at a counter, drinking coffee. She managed to keep her knees from buckling as she slid across from her onto another stool.

 

“Coffee?” asked Leia. Rey shook her head ‘no,’ not able to speak. Grief kept bubbling up and closing her throat.

 

Leia took a long searching look at her face and sighed.

 

“Ben told me some of what happened. I heard part of it at the gallery last night from friends. I got home as quickly as I could,” Leia began.

 

“He headed out to the mountains this morning,“ she continued. “He goes there to think sometimes.”

 

Rey nodded and answered, “Yes, he took me there a couple of months ago.” Leia quirked an eyebrow at Rey.

 

“He cares about you,” she said.

 

Leia must have seen doubt on Rey’s face. “Yes, he does. I know he does. He couldn’t stop talking about your class all last year, and when you started seeing each other, he was over the moon.”

 

“I told him I had some concerns,” Leia said, and then stopped.

 

“I remember, you told me that too,” Rey whispered.

 

Leia gripped her coffee cup a little tighter and stared off into the distance, lost in thoughts.

 

“You care about him too. I know you’d never hurt him,” said Leia. “I just don’t want to lose him. I’ve nearly lost him twice already.”

 

Leia cleared her throat. “I think he just needs to be with family now. Give him some time. Keep his life uncomplicated, while he sorts some things out.”

 

Rey felt dismay hanging low in her head, and her cranium was throbbing. She jumped up from the stool.

 

“He already told me, he wants me to go away. It’s ok, you don’t have to say more. I was leaving anyway,” Rey said.“I’m sorry, I should have left when he told me to, but I—”

 

Leia reached for her hand, and said “Rey, it’s just for a little while. I’m glad you stayed. I care about you too.” Rey gulped back tears, trying to keep her mind clear.

 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll go. I don’t want to be a bother,” Rey answered.“I do. I do care about him,” she added.

 

“I knew you’d understand,” said Leia. Her face suddenly seemed older and sadder. “It’s not forever. Someday he’ll find his way back. You two are still young.”

 

She walked Rey to the front door of the house, and Rey handed back her key to the house.

 

“I’ll keep this safe for you,” said Leia.

 

Rey walked to her car, and started the engine, not looking at the house. She had to keep her eyes dry for the long drive back to her apartment.

 

When she got back home, she called in sick for her shift the next day at her office job. They were more forgiving than the retail job in granting sick days, and she already knew she wasn’t going to be able to handle any responsibility for the immediate future. Finn and Rose were out, and the apartment was still and silent. Rey headed to her room and kicked off her shoes.

 

She got into bed still wearing her stale dress, laid her head down, and drew her knees up under her chin. She pressed her face into her cold pillow and could no longer restrain her sobbing.

 

***

 

It was the day she finally had to work at the bookstore when it all hit her.

 

In her brain she’d always had a way of stringing together every permutation of reality that could be assembled, and then shelving them somewhere in a back room, ready to be revisited from time to time. In a relationship, of course, there are millions of different paths, all those different choices, leading to so many happy scenarios. She’d seldom let herself indulge in the personal cinema of screening all those dailies, especially the ones that worked out to a secret wish-list for future romantic happiness. With Ben though, she had loosened her grip. She had allowed her imagination to run riot. There were several shelves full of them, really.

 

So, as she was in the middle or reshelving a cart of books, she suddenly realized she was thinking of those other shelves, and noticed her mind was starting to play through one of these small films. It had been one of her favorites— and now she had to brutally squash it. It was never going to happen. Not now. Not any of them. Not the good ones anyway.

 

And so it continued. Day after day, ruthlessly editing out all of these scenes in her daily interior life left her ragged and heartsore. Only the tedium of customer service numbed her to her new existence.

 

Of course, these fantasies of the now-impossible future were replaced, bit by bit, by her mind as it tried to imagine what Ben was doing or thinking at this or that moment.

 

He’d find another woman someday. Someone stronger and more suited to him. Someone who could really help.

 

In the meantime, she sank deeper and deeper into her monotonous daily routine.

 

She thought of the burden she was to her friends. Holdo, who thought she was too tender-hearted. Poe, who thought she wasn’t concerned enough with the suffering of others. Finn and Rose, who put up with her moods, and the fact that they had a third-wheel as a roommate. One who could barely pull her weight, with no prospects in the future for improvement.

 

Rey imagined the helpful person all of these people deserved to have as a friend and strived to be that. She knew that she rarely succeeded.

 

At the center of it all, she felt an inward reverberation of pain.

 

She would look in a mirror and see round hazel eyes staring back at her, like they were watching a stranger.

 

Rey would move her face, hoping to feel real, trying to create a mask that would fit again outdoors.

 

The outline that gazed back defied any easy answers.

 

_Some things you just have to get through_ , Rey thought. _The only way out is through._

 

While organizing and boxing books in her section, Rey had imaginary conversations with Ben. He’d be sitting frozen in their gazebo, stiller than the day they’d watched the rain together.

 

_“Ben, would you have tried harder for another woman? Was I just the wrong person? Did I say the wrong thing? Was I just too much? Was it Hux? I wanted so hard for that to never be an issue in my life, I never thought it would be an issue in yours. I blame myself, I know I shouldn’t. Everyone says I shouldn’t, but everyone also judges. I know that you didn’t, but now you can’t help thinking of it when you look at me. You said once you didn’t want people to think of your scars when they saw you, and I wanted the same thing for me.”_

 

The Ben she imagined just sat still, not moving or responding. _Please,_ she’d beg mentally.

 

He would never answer.

 

 

 

***

 

_The girl approached the crossroads for the final time, she hoped, and once again spied her old friend the rat._

 

_She waved at him and showed him the map. He examined her soberly._

 

_“This final task will be your greatest test,” he said._

 

_“But I have everything I need,” the girl said. She had this figured out now, and all she needed to do was free the prince._

 

_The rat said no more, but simply gestured toward a labyrinth located down the final road. “Your path lies that way. We will not see each other again, except in dreams. When you see the prince again, please send him my love.”_

 

_She stooped down and gave the old rat a squeeze of affection.“You have helped me so much. I will miss you. I will watch for you in my dreams.”_

 

_The girl squared her shoulders and drew the map from her pouch. She examined the position of the stars in the sky and began walking toward the maze. She hoped it would make more sense as she got closer._

 

_Walking for hours, she seemed no closer to any destination. She felt as though she were travelling deeper underground, and beads of cold water seeped out of the walls of the labyrinth and a tunnel closed over her head._

 

_Her boots splashed more and more, and deeper puddles began to appear. Was she underwater?_

 

_After a while, she reemerged above ground and could once again see the night sky. Carefully, she consulted her map, to check if she was travelling in the correct direction, aligned with the stars. All seemed in order, but she could not sense any end to her trail._

 

_Finally, she saw a golden glow in the distance._

 

_She arrived at the foot of a very high staircase, and wearily she began to climb. She could just make out the shape of a dark red tower, ringed with hundreds of windows, a yellow light emanating from each. Haloed in that eldritch glow from each of those upper windows, there protruded huge cannon, trained on every corner of the kingdom._

 

_No one could ever creep upon this tower in secret; the girl suddenly realized that her presence must be known to the inhabitants. She was expected._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from "All The Tears That I Cried" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/all-the-tears-that-i-cried/
> 
> Sorry to be posting this late--I'm working on a presentation for online on the politics of Star Wars and forgot the time. Hit me up on twitter if you are interested in knowing how and when to tune in: rosicrucian1970
> 
> Heloise and Abelard are modeled off of a pair of crows that romp around the area near my classroom--I call them that. Obviously I spend too much time alone, lol. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, comments give me life! Love you all. xo


	30. If I learned a lesson it’s how to bounce back again

Late March and early April 2008

 

 

“Hasn’t he called you?” asked Rose.

 

Rey was staring absently at the television, trying to corral her mind into escapist entertainment to stop thinking about her life.

 

“No, I didn’t think he would though,” answered Rey.

 

Finn looked at Rose and then at Rey and pressed his lips together.

 

“I thought better of him than that,” said Finn.

 

Rey shrugged. She needed to get her mind right. Her roomies had lives of their own and didn’t need her moping around the apartment.

 

If she had any sense, she’d get her CV in order and try to apply to other schools for teaching work. She might even need to move out of Niima, it was increasingly seeming like there was nothing left for her here.

 

The economic wrecking ball the job market was experiencing stayed her hand—things seemed bad all over town. There were rumors at her office job that even those jobs were on the chopping block. There was no way Rey could live on a couple of days work a week at the bookstore.

 

The prospect of moving to another state where it was cheaper to live was not pleasant. Rey didn’t know what to do. Her network, the people she knew, were all here. The thought of moving alone and starting over with strangers made her want to cry.

 

Would it really be better somewhere else? The news made it sound like there were fiscal craters opening up all over the surface of the country, and nowhere would be safe. There would never be an upwardly mobile career path for an art teacher, but things were now looking even more bleak.

 

Rey imagined herself hopping in her car or on a train and teaching art on corners in California, town by town, selling her knowledge. Perhaps the people could keep culture alive while money and resources were slashed from the established funding and organizations.

 

_I might make something work_ , she thought.

 

Her mind refused to think about moving away from where Ben was located, she realized. _You might not get a choice_ , she tried to tell herself.

 

Wearied by her thoughts, she went to bed.

 

_***_

 

_Her steps slowed and dragged with exhaustion, but suddenly she felt pulled by a force not her own, toward the last few steps, not under her own power._

 

_Emerging before her was a vast throne, and on it sat the fairy king._

 

_He was dressed in a long robe of reptilian scales, each tipped and sharp, looking deadly. Around his throat was a gaudy stole of furs, with the heads of small dead animals peering out with vacant glass eyes. His head was withered, bearing the face of a creature that thrives on violence and destruction, on watching the bodies of younger men ground up in the maw of war._

 

_“Closer child,” he buzzed with an insectile hiss. His smile was more terrible than his frown._

 

_The girl suddenly saw a small brown body at the foot of the throne._

 

_It was the prince, trapped once again in his seal’s skin. His eyes met hers, but he did not appear to recognize her. The creature made no sound._

 

_“You have come for my apprentice, girl?” asked the fairy king, mockingly._

 

_The girl didn’t answer, angry at seeing her friend reduced in stature and deprived of his voice, lying near the golden slipper of his tormentor._

 

_“As you see, he chose to return to the form of this creature, instead of braving death as a man by abandoning the skin of the seal in his cave, which would have freed himself and his people from the curse,” said the fairy king._

 

_“He has always had this choice; he is too much of a coward to die,” he continued._

 

_The fairy king examined the face of the girl and placed his fingers under her chin._

 

_“You, however, are brave, girl. You have come to the heart of my kingdom, to face me alone. You can join me, as my true apprentice,” the fairy king said sweetly._

 

_With his other hand, he conjured a vision—and the girl saw herself, dressed in red armor, carrying a sword, at the side of her king._

 

_Never to be alone again, never to be friendless. She would hold power, and a role. In time, the prince would lose even the faint memory of knowing her. Even if she_ did _succeed in freeing him, the vision showed her, he would resent such a simple girl at his court, being under her obligation, and knowing she had seen him at his lowest. The prince would seek to forget his friend._

 

_She felt a tear drop down her face at this bitter vision._

 

_With flattery, the fairy king said, “You can be better than all of them. This creature has sunk himself deep into his fate, deciding never to be a man again. You however, still have a choice. A girl can be the champion and win this war for all time. In time you could rule this kingdom, with my help.”_

 

_His words wrapped around her mind, ringing in her head like they were the sole truth of the universe. In her heart, she could feel a future with the prince forgetting her, hating her, abandoning her, like all of the others._

 

_Whispers crept around her, like hands on her body, wheedling her._

 

_She could save herself, save her heart, spare herself pain--and never to feel hurt again. The girl would perform tasks for the king, which would purify her essence, make clear her path to the ultimate knowledge, and finally, bring her to the fulfillment of his promises of great power._

 

_All she had to do was accept the fairy king’s simple offer._

 

_He was waiting._

 

***

 

Spring break finally rolled around. Rey welcomed the break from her office job for two weeks—time to concentrate on getting her life straightened out. She could clean out some closets, update her resumé, and do some art.

 

The first Monday of break, she heard a knock at the door.

 

_No,_ she thought. _It couldn’t be._ Her heart thumped in anticipation despite herself. Eagerly she opened the door.

 

“Poe,” she said.

 

“Don’t look so excited, kiddo,” Poe said.

 

Rey said, “I’m sorry, come on in. I was just cleaning.”

 

“What brings you here, Poe?” Poe said, “Whatever could you want to tell me on a Monday morning that couldn’t wait?”

 

Rey chuckled despite herself, “Yes, Poe. I’m dying to know.”

 

“Well, I took my class on a field trip to LACMA last week. We went to go see that digital/analog media show that you told me about,” Poe began.

 

Rey gulped. Had he run into Ben or Leia at the gallery? She wasn’t as ready for all of this as she thought she was.

 

Poe continued, “It was great! The class loved it. There was just one little thing. Actually, a big thing.”

 

Rey nodded, confused where this was going.

 

“Our old nemesis Armitage has a piece in that show, you know,” Poe said.

 

Rey had suspected as much so she wasn’t surprised. “What is this all about, Poe?” she asked wearily.

 

“Well, his piece was interesting. So interesting, it reminded me of something,” Poe continued. “I thought about it all of the way back home. It stuck with me all week, and then finally, I thought of something.”

 

_I really don’t care about Hux’ stupid work and his stupid great career_ , thought Rey, cross at this story and at Poe.

 

“So, I did an internet search for a few hours. And look what I found,” Poe said. He pulled a few sheets of folded printer paper from his jacket pocket and handed them to Rey.

 

Rey unfolded the pages, which were printed in color. One page had a few reproductions of artwork by Hux, which she recognized. The other pages were pictures of work that looked very similar to Hux’s. There were captions in different scripts and languages on those pictures though.

 

“I don’t understand,” said Rey. “Are these from international shows he’s been in or something?”

 

“That’s what I thought at first too. But then I saw one site, in a language that I could kind of read, that had a different name for the artist, and I got curious,” said Poe.

 

“I did a search and found an email for the artist and sent her a message, with a picture of Hux’s piece that looked similar to the one I saw with this other artist’s name, and asked her what was up,” he said.

 

Rey was mystified.

 

Poe took another piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Rey. 

 

Rey read the whole letter twice before it finally sunk in.

 

Hux had been stealing from this artist and other artists, for years. Not just the piece in the LACMA show, but nearly all of his work. He usually stole his ideas from women artists—he’d befriend them, pretend to mentor them, drop them. And a couple of years later, their ideas and imagery would show right up in his work.

 

Hux would make sure the artists were just starting out, so they wouldn’t have the social or professional clout to make a stink about his plagiarism. And once he took their ideas and made his own art out of them, no one had anything to go on but the word of the women against his to say who had had the idea first.

 

“Jesus, those poor women,” said Rey. She was enraged.

 

Poe looked at her steadily for a moment, and then continued, “So, what do we do about this?”

 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Rey said.

 

“I mean, we can take this asshole down,” said Poe, “but we’re going to need some help.”

 

The beginning of plan began to bloom in Rey’s mind.

 

“Yes, Poe,” Rey said. “I think I know what you mean.”

 

***

 

Leia looked at Poe and Rey over her wineglass.

 

“You know, this isn’t at all what I thought you needed to meet with me for,” said Leia.

 

Rey had invited Leia to the fancy Italian place in old Niima that most people with parents brought their parents to for special occasions. She told her that she and a friend needed to talk to her.

 

“Oh,” said Rey. She and Poe had brought more print-outs to make their case, as proof. Rey was so focused on hoping that the two of them wouldn’t look like crazy people, she’d almost forgotten that Leia might have thought this was about something else.

 

Almost.

 

Leia had listened, poring over the print-outs of images, and carefully reading more letters from artists who had responded to Poe and Rey. 

 

They had gotten to dessert and nearly finished the bottle of wine before Leia had responded.

 

“First of all, I will drop a line to the curator at the gallery about this,” Leia said. “I’ll need the links to these websites you’ve printed out here, and I’d like to reach out personally to this artist, so I’ll need her email too.” 

 

“If this all checks out, and I’m sure it will, the curator can remove the piece from the show,” she continued.

 

“What about his job?” she asked both Rey and Poe, looking at them.

 

Poe looked at Leia with a worshipping gaze, despite himself.

 

“I was just getting to that,” Poe said.

 

Leia said, “I can write to his Dean about this, and his potential removal from the show over stealing. After I do that though, I’d like some back-up from his peers in the art world about his probable detrimental presence as a teacher and an artist. I can get Maz to write. If you can get some of these women to write the school, and maybe you two as well, that would help.”

 

Poe interrupted, “Rey can’t get involved.”Rey winced.

 

It was true, they couldn’t let this look like personal retribution from a scorned lover or something.

 

Leia looked at her and said, “Oh? Hmm. I figured my son hadn’t picked a fight with an artist at an opening over post-modernism, but I didn’t know what it was about. Interesting.” She peered closer at Rey as if to say she’d get the rest of this story out of her later.

 

Rey hoped there wouldn’t be a later.

 

“I can do it though,” said Poe. “And I know some other people who would be more than happy to contribute.”

 

Leia spooned up the last of her ice cream and finished her glass of wine. She picked up the check and said, “I’ll take care of this.”

 

Rey had been trying to suppress her impulses to ask about Ben, but one tiny urge got through despite her efforts. 

 

“Is Ben doing well?” she asked.

 

Leia gave her a warm and caring look. “I’ll tell him you said hello, dear” she said. Then she rose, picked up her wrap, and glided from the table and out of the restaurant.

 

“I do not usually like her kind of rich-lady people,” said Poe, “but I gotta say, she gets to the point.”

 

“Yes, she does,” said Rey.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Don't Come the Cowboy With Me, Sonny Jim!" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/dont-come-the-cowboy-with-me-sonny-jim/
> 
> The Resistance rides again, in dreams and in life. I enjoyed writing the story within a story of Rey's dreams--it was interesting to cast the tale of Star Wars as a sort of Grimm's fairy tale. 
> 
> I have an all day event to be at today, so I'm posting this super-early. Hopefully this update won't float to oblivion in an hour. Thank you for reading, commenting, or leaving kudos! Have a wonderful weekend, as we count down to our respective winter holidays. xo


	31. There is something I have seen, a vision in my dreams

 

 

April 7, 2008

 

 

Poe had updated her daily all week on his progress on organizing letters both from artists Hux had burned, and their old friends from CSD.

 

“We’re alumni, that has to count for something,” said Poe. “Not that it ever did us any good.”

 

Rey smiled, “If it wasn’t for CSD, we’d never have all met each other. That counts for a lot.”

 

She was touched that everyone had rallied to the cause. Of course, Hux had been a malevolent thorn in the garden of the local art scene for years. That helped too. Nearly everyone in the arts in Niima, it turned out, had a “Hux burned me” story.

 

“It usually brings me no pleasure to go after someone’s job, but I’m making an exception in his case,” said Poe. “For once I’m glad CSD has no union. If this sticks, tenure won’t help him. He’s going down.” 

 

Hux’s piece at LACMA had quietly disappeared. Poe had gone back to check on things there, and there was a “Removed for cleaning” sign in the place where the work had previously appeared. He was a man with a mission and he wasn’t disappointed.

 

The name “Organa” made things happen quickly, apparently.

 

Rey had been restless all week, feeling like she was waiting for another shoe to drop. She tried to concentrate on using her time to do some artwork. Things were shaping up, the sketches that she did inspired by her strange dreams all year developed into watercolors and charcoal drawings. She pinned them up all over any spare wall space in her bedroom, where they greeted her in the mornings.

 

To the stolen photo of young Ben on her desk, she added a few of the sketches of him she had, torn out of her notebook. A large black feather had appeared on the walkway to the apartment, and she added it to the arrangement. It seemed to fit in somehow. Leaning nearby were the books Ben had given her as a gift.

 

After a week of drawing, she discovered that she’d run low on her favorite ink—which was of course an expensive sepia from Germany that only one store in town carried in stock. Rey sighed. It would mean ramen for the rest of the week, but she had to have that ink.

 

It was hard to stay disciplined at the fancy art store. It was a carnival of exotic paper, colors, paints, and tools. Rey headed right for the pen and ink section to look for her brand of ink.She gazed longingly at the pens, suddenly thinking of Ben, and blinked away some moisture. _Stay focused_ , she scolded herself.

 

She put the paper sack with her ink on the front seat after she was done shopping, gazed out at the lovely spring weather outside, and realized she hadn’t been outdoors for most of the week. Driving aimlessly, Rey didn’t feel like driving straight home again. She toured around, pretending she wasn’t driving past all the places she’d gone to with Ben.

 

Would there ever come a time when looking at these things wouldn’t bring her a stab of pain at the associations and the memories?

 

She let her heart guide her driving, staring blankly out at the road, not knowing where she would end up next.

 

Rey’s aimless path took her into neighborhoods that she’d never driven in before, the trees getting taller and older, the houses larger and more spread apart. She feared she was getting lost, and started to look for landmarks, in case she needed to backtrack out of the area to find her way back to the main road.

 

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she looked out of her window and saw the sign on the front of a house reading “Manticore Books and Refreshments.”

 

Old Ben was on the front porch in his robe, holding his mail. He peered into Rey’s car, and his eyebrows raised up. Her car was the only car in sight for a mile in each direction.

 

“Let me guess, you just happened to be in the neighborhood,” he called out acerbically when he recognized her.

 

“You might as well come on in,” he added, smiling faintly.

 

Rey parked her car, more aware than ever what an ugly blemish it was, in the charming old neighborhood. It shuddered with a distressed moan just for good measure as she switched off the ignition.

 

Old Kenobi waited for her patiently, blinking in the spring light. He looked as if he hadn’t been outdoors all week either.

 

“We’ll have some tea,” he said. Rey just nodded and entered.

 

Once again, Rey’s senses were elated by the colors and textures of the shop. Old Ben gestured to an overstuffed arm chair off in the corner, and she dropped herself into it. She looked around, looking for any sign of change since she’d last visited, but saw nothing. A few maps were strewn on the counterspace. Had Ben been by recently?

 

Lights twinkled overhead on the ceiling. Rey half-closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. The bulbs looked like stars, and she imagined new constellations around planets not yet discovered.

 

She heard a rustling, and Old Ben was back out of the kitchen, tidying up table and counterspace.

 

“Are those new maps?” she asked. 

 

“Ben was by yesterday,” he replied, answering the question she’d really wanted to ask.

 

“Oh, how is he?” Rey asked. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”

 

“Yes, a foolish turn of events. I told him so,” Old Ben replied. “He told me of his decision to not see you.” 

 

Rey’s vision blurred a bit. “Evidently I--it wasn’t good for him, it was upsetting him.” 

 

Ben went on, as if she hadn’t spoken, “I’ve known the whole family for decades, and their talent for unwise decisions and poor planning has always baffled me. Ben’s decision to bring you into his life struck me as one of the better choices he’d made so far.” 

 

Rey heard the kettle whistle from the kitchen, and the old man rose to go make tea.

 

He brought back a teapot and cups on a tray, which also held a small leather-bound folio. Old Ben placed a cup of tea on the table in front of Rey, and also put down the book.

 

“You might like to see those,” said old Ben. Rey picked up the folio and opened it with care, the old leather spine creaking perilously.

 

The frontispiece had a label pasted in on thick book paper, with _Skywalker Organa Solo Family_ written in calligraphy on it.

 

The first photos were in black and white, edges yellowed with age, showing two young men in World War Two-era military uniforms. The captions read _Ben Kenobi_ and _Anakin Skywalker_.The young man named Anakin posed rakishly against a plane, which was painted with a young woman in dark braids and a pin-up pose on the side of it---the name _Padme_ , was painted under her in heavy black script.

 

Old Ben Kenobi, who was quite dashing as a young man, posed next to his own plane. The name of his plane was _Satine_ and featured a blond woman with hair in an updo and short bangs.

 

“Ben’s grandfather and I flew several missions together. He married Padme and they had two children, twins. Both parents died when the children were young. I’ve kept an eye on the family for quite some years,” said Old Ben. “My own hopes for marriage ended with the death of Satine. But the Skywalker family keeps one busy.” He sighed sadly, lost in memory. “Leia was semi-adopted by a family called ‘Organa’ and Luke went to go live with some distant relatives.”

 

Rey paged through the book, the images leading to pictures of the twins growing up, graduating from rompers to 1960’s teen fashion. In a few more pages, faded color pictures showed Leia in long hippie braids and loud radical fashions, throwing up a peace sign to the photographer. Luke, (Rey presumed it was Luke, although she’d never seen him before) was attired in the dress whites of a Naval officer and had a rather prim expression.

 

“Luke followed the family tradition and flew planes during Vietnam. Leia was arrested several times outside the White House, protesting the war,” Ben continued.

 

“I was surprised when she decided to marry Luke’s friend Captain Solo during the war.” Rey noticed a younger Han Solo, with a firm chin, strong nose, and wicked dimples, posing with Luke.“They had very little in common, but there was some mysterious chemistry there.”

 

The next photo showed a sweaty and blitzed-out looking Leia holding a grouchy-faced and dark-haired baby in her arms while lying in a hospital bed. The caption written in ball-point pen on the border of the photo was _1973 Baby Ben Is Here!_

 

_Loves His Daddy!_ said the next one—showing a larger toddler Ben reaching to grab at Han’s sizable 1970’s-era mustache. There was a photo of Captain Solo on a small exploration vessel, sitting in a rust-colored leatherette chair, and holding a can of beer. “Han got into salvage and some other things after the war. Shipwrecks, smuggling antiques, some gray-market courier work, using his old military connections. He started to be away from home a lot. He and Leia were fighting over his work. She had money—but Han didn’t want to feel like a kept man.”

 

“It was hard on Ben. Han loved him, but he wanted a buddy, not a son,” Kenobi said. “Ben had a lot of Leia in him—swimming against the currents,” Old Ben smiled. “That didn’t sit so well with Han. He wasn’t into ‘complicated.’”

 

There was a photo of Ben in corduroy bell-bottoms and a shirt with western-style embroidery on it, that Rey was sure he’d wished had been burned. His hair was chopped short, and his ears stuck out mercilessly. _First Day of Kindergarten!! 1978._ Younger Ben already had a rather sad expression on his face, as if he’d found his first foray into the real world vastly disappointing.

 

“Han had some run-in with some gangsters, a hazard in his line of work. Leia’s money helped get him out of that, and she laid down the law. No more underworld-type jobs. Han seemed a changed man. He wrote a book about his experiences, a tad embellished,” said Old Ben, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “He started to do public speaking, and then run seminars: ‘How to talk yourself out of (and into!) nearly every situation.’ Well, at least it was legal.”

 

“Ben told me his dad tried to get him on board with that, like as a partner or something,” said Rey.

 

“Han should have known better,” Kenobi said. “He just wanted a kid more like him. When Ben was younger, they had more in common, did things outdoors and on the boat. Ben didn’t like the new Han, with the suits, and corporate jargon. The bigger boat, with other professional men on it. Han thought Leia spoiled Ben, letting him do things that weren’t ‘manly.’” 

 

There was a gap in the photos, and the next one of Ben was in the more saturated color processing of the 1980s. He was dressed in black, with long hair, and a small piercing showed in one ear.Surprisingly, he was smiling, looking away from the camera, as if he’d been captured when he wasn’t paying attention. Perhaps Leia had snuck taking a shot when Ben wasn’t looking.

 

Rey turned the next page, and there was another time jump. Ben was squinting in the desert sun in heavy fatigues and armor, surrounded by some other men dressed the same. “Ben sent me that one,” said Kenobi. “Leia was very against him enlisting—for one, she hates war. She thought if he had to join, he should at least go to officers’ training. Han and Luke were against it too--they both thought he should be a pilot, if he was going to go.” 

 

“Ben wasn’t into following anyone else’s path though. He always had to do things his own way,” Ben said with a little smile. “In the end, no one really fought for him to not join. They didn’t see that the Marines were his way to fight the rest of them, and to see if they’d care enough to notice they were letting him go.” 

 

Rey started, struck by that thought, although she wasn’t sure why exactly. Something ticked at the surface of reason, eluding her. She shook her head and poured some more tea into her cup. It was cold, but she sipped at it anyway, lost in thought.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” said Rey. “I don’t know how to fix any of this. And I don’t think Ben wants me to. He sent me away.” 

 

Old Ben looked at her from where he was leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think there’s anything to fix, dear. It’s not about fixing him or his life. What are you going to fight for, though? That’s always the question.” 

 

“I’m nobody,” said Rey. “What can I do? He has all of these wonderful people in his life, including you. I just don’t see what I’m supposed to do.” 

 

“You don’t see, but are you really looking?” asked Ben.A large golden clock chimed from up on the wall near the kitchen.It was midnight. Rey jumped up, startled by the lateness of the hour, and also by a rippling sense of dejá vu.

 

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea how late it was,” she said. How had it gotten to be midnight? She hadn’t even noticed the sky getting darker outside. “Thank you for the tea, and for showing me the pictures. I wish. Well, it doesn’t matter. Thank you again.”

 

Old Ben creaked out of his chair and opened the front door for Rey. She exited onto the porch, peering into the night sky, hoping it would be enough to light her way to her car. The stars were brighter and seemed closer in the unlighted surroundings of Ben’s neighborhood.The moon was just a distant sliver in the sky.

 

“Don’t be a stranger,” Ben said. “You aren’t really nobody: you just think you want to be nobody.” And with that, he shut the door.

 

***

 

_The girl looked again at the selkie, wrapped in the stasis of his curse, and thought of the prince trapped forever in this form.Abandoned._

 

_“How do you know his choice is made?” she asked._

 

_The fairy king shrugged, annoyed. “You can ask him,” he said._

 

Causing his own death isn’t a real choice _, the girl thought._ That is a false premise. _And if that premise was false, all the others were suspect as well._

 

_She walked up to the selkie and bent down to speak to him. “Prince, I know you are brave and strong. You are no coward. You returned to the form of a seal for the sake of your mother, who loves you. Your death would break her heart and would be another curse, a worse one exchanged for this one.”_

 

_“The old rat loves you, your kingdom loves you.”_

 

_Still, the seal looked at her, and sighed. The girl draped her wings around him, hoping he could remember even a fragment of their time together flying over the ocean. She felt stupid and small. The prince deserved someone important, someone with power and skill who would have known how to free him._

 

_“I am a simple girl, no princess, or highborn lady. I always want what I cannot have. I shouldn’t dare to want you,” she said. “But I love you.”_

 

_The lights in the chamber all blew out at once, and she heard a terrible shriek from the king._

 

_A small spot of illumination blazed over the body of the seal. Under her wings his body twisted, writhing into the form of a small dragon, then a snake, then a ferret, and then finally, the stunned form of the prince. His wings were damp and fastened close around his body.He sat up and stared at the girl in shock._

 

_Suddenly all of the lights flashed back into life in the throne room, and the fairy king had taken his own ghastly dragon form, screaming at the pair who dared to defy him._

 

_“You will never matter girl,” he hissed. “And you boy—the whole kingdom will hear how you were shamed, how you were lacking in pride and honor.”_

 

_The prince wrapped his wings around the girl and set his face against his tormentor. He lifted the girl up into his arms and took off upwards in flight. Together they burst through an upper window, exiting the tower._

 

_They flew and flew, heading in return toward the castle. The girl worried that she was tiring the prince, their journey was so long. When she protested, he merely said, “Let me do this, your tasks on my behalf have been heavy.”_

 

_He continued, “When I was a seal, it was comforting to never have to ponder things deeply--to live simply, to merely exist, unchanging. I ate fish, I swam, I thought the murderous and uncomplicated thoughts of a seal.”_

 

_“I never had the burden of difficult choices. I liked forgetting about such things,” the prince admitted. “Things will be different now,” he continued._

 

_“Once you make one choice, you have to make another choice, and then there are more choices,” the girl said. “With one decision, another one presents itself. I learned that in the last few days. You can try to avoid it, but they end up finding you anyway.”_

 

_“And if you don’t, others will try to choose for you,” said the prince._

 

_“What do you think you will choose to do now?” asked the girl._

 

_The war was over, the curse lifted. His family would rejoice, and he could take his place again as the prince of his kingdom._

 

_“I have already chosen,” answered the prince. “I love you.” He kissed her._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "You Know It's You" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/you-know-its-you/
> 
> I want to shake up this world and not to feel so useless  
> And I long to wake up happy and not to feel so hopeless  
> I want arms that never held me to pull me to my senses  
> And wrap themselves around me  
> Oh, please let it come true  
> There’s only one thing for me  
> Darling, darling, darling you know it’s you
> 
> I want someone up here beside me  
> To wake up in heaven with all my worries behind me  
> That’s what I’d love to do  
> There is something I have seen, a vision in my dreams  
> Who only comes it seems to tell me what I already knew  
> There’s only one thing that can save me now  
> And baby you know it’s you
> 
> Ah – d’you ever see just what I see?  
> My whole life just flashed in front of me  
> All my fears, all my mistakes, the heart that sings before it breaks  
> Oh I want arms that never held me to wrap themselves around me  
> And not to let me down too gently  
> I need something to look forward to  
> There’s only one thing that will do  
> And you know darling you know it’s you
> 
> \----
> 
> One day I was out walking around between my classes and spotted this crow feather. I was overjoyed, since I was just about at the point where I was writing this chapter. I mentioned last week that two crows hang out near my classroom door, and I hoped the feather was from Heloise or Abelard, and that it was a good omen for this story. 
> 
> I walked around quite a bit more, and later felt for the feather in my jacket pocket. It was gone. 
> 
> I tried to pretend I wasn't upset about it, and that it was easy come, easy go, but I was kind of sad. I finally got back to my classroom a few minutes before class and dove in deeper into the jacket and finally after searching all over, I found it stuck to the upper bit of my pocket, clinging to the fabric. It lives on my desk near where I write now. I took a picture and used it to illustrate this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for all of the comments, kudos, and for reading. Next chapter our two lovers will meet again--what will happen? and then after that, a holiday themed epilogue. Love to all, comments are life. Have a wonderful weekend. xo


	32. Let the sun shine on my golden heart

April 14th, 2008

 

 

Spring at Niima Community College was heralded by a variety of flowering trees and vines all over campus, but it was still quite warm by early afternoon. 

 

Rey had perhaps too much time to reflect on the prudence of her plan to wait by Ben’s car in the parking lot, to catch him when he came out of class. She had arrived as close to the end time of his photo class as possible and had found the Impala easily in the Organa Arts lot. Self-consciousness prickled her as she tried to lean confidently against the hood of the car, hoping she looked purposeful, and not like a crazy person.

 

The hour drive to campus had given her ample time to reflect on the wisdom or foolishness of her decision.

 

A few students began to trickle out of doorways as they left class. Rey peered into the distance through the warm air, trying to see if she could spot Ben.

 

_You should have called or emailed him, you should have asked if this was ok, if he wanted to see you, you are going to look stupid, this is stupid, you should run, you have time, get back to your car, start it up, run away, go home, try again, don’t do this, it’s been nearly a month, he would have called if he wanted to, if he wanted you, if, if, if_

 

_Shut up brain,_ Rey tried to scold it.

 

Rey hadn’t told anyone she was coming here to do this. She was afraid her friends would try to talk her out of it or succeed in persuading her that this was all a bad plan.

 

Her heart was pounding, and her tongue was dry. It was very warm out here, with no shade. Maybe she should just leave a note on Ben’s car? Maybe he’d meet her in the café if she asked him. Rey bit her lip and fished in her purse for her sketchbook and a pen, and wrote a note, and tore it out of her sketchbook.

 

She was leaning over to put the folded note under a wiper blade of the Impala when she heard Ben’s voice, “Hello? Rey?”

 

Rey jumped up, and whirled around, crumpling the note in her damp palm. “Oh! You scared me! I mean, I was waiting for you, but then I didn’t see you, and didn’t expect, well, here you are.” _You are babbling, shut up._

 

“What was in the note?” asked Ben, looking at the slip of paper in her fist. He was wearing a charcoal gray t-shirt, dark blue jeans, black sneakers, sunglasses, and had a camera bag slung over his shoulder.As usual, he looked totally unaffected by the heat of the day. Damn him. Rey was sure she looked like a wrung-out dishrag by now.

 

“I was going to ask you to meet me in the campus café, if you had time. It was getting hot out here,” Rey answered. “You see.”

 

“Yes, I see,” Ben said. He looked from her hand, up to her face, and then seemed to look her all over, as if she were likely to disappear unless he checked to make sure she was really there.

 

Encouraged, Rey said, “Do you mind if we talk? Somewhere else? Out of the sun?’

 

“Just a sec,” Ben said. He opened his trunk and put his camera bag into the back.Rey hung back, waiting for him.

 

She realized that she hadn’t really thought out what she was going to say. Rey was surprised her plan had gotten her this far. Ben smiled slightly and turned toward her, and she gestured that she’d follow him. He started walking, and she fell into step beside him.

 

“What are you working on in class?” Rey asked.

 

“I went and shot some black and white portraits over Spring Break at the VA. It was different than doing the drawings for your class. Less personal, in a way. It was interesting though. I’m printing some,” Ben answered.“How about you? Are you making any art?”

 

_He’s the only one who ever asks me that,_ Rey thought. “I am actually. Some fairy tale imagery from dreams I’ve been having, and other things. It’s not my usual thing, so I’m a little nervous about it.Not that anyone will ever see my stuff,” she said wryly.

 

Ben said, “You don’t know that, you should show them. I’d like to see them. If you don’t mind, that is.”

 

“I’d like to see what you are working on too,” Rey said.

 

They were rounding a corner, and Rey saw the Horticulture building. Ben glanced at her and said, “It is cooler in the arboretum, we’ll get some shade from the trees.” Rey nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

 

Ben’s foot crunched in the dead leaves at the foot of the stone steps leading to the top of the hill. Rey put her hand on the handrail to steady herself, and climbed up the stairs next to him, despite her shorter stride. Panting slightly in the warm air, they climbed past the Horticulture building and the abandoned greenhouse. From the top of the stairs, the path to the labyrinth of roses beckoned. The huge petals were open to the afternoon sun, the flowers blooming in their full springtime glory.

 

Bees zoomed with intent occupation from flower to flower, and golden dust motes floated in the rays of the sun. Ben walked slowly in front of Rey in the maze. The scent of the roses mixed with the smell of pine sap as they strode nearer to the cool glade of the arboretum.Rey was beginning to remember the way through the maze, some landmarks seemed familiar.She knew they were near the end and wondered what she would say when they reached their destination.

 

Rey and Ben arrived at the glade and walked together toward the stone bench. Once again, Rey noticed the otherworldly air of the tree-lined space—the outside world seemed to recede entirely from this earthly sphere. She felt her breath slow down and her spirits aligning with the ambiance of her surroundings.

 

The cool stones of the bench pressed against her legs as she sat down. Ben sat down also, and looked at her, waiting for her to begin.

 

“I didn’t like the way we left things,” Rey said. How to say what she meant? The longing for the rest of a story cut short, needing to know how the tale would unspool and end, how her heart hurt leaving Ben? Feeling like a discarded book left on a table, knowing there was more there to discover?

 

She was trying to marshal her arguments when she felt Ben’s fingers curl around her hand on the bench. Rey turned to face him in surprise.

 

“Rey, I only meant to spare you from my problems. You don’t deserve to waste yourself on a wreck of a human being like me,” Ben said.

 

Rey sat up straight, “That wasn’t your call to make,” she returned, stung.

 

Ben frowned, “I don’t want you to be with me out of pity. You could find someone so much better, you have so much going for you.”

 

_Like what,_ Rey wondered? _Bad jobs, no career, and I’m here stalking my ex._

 

“Did you mean all of that, about nothing being real or meaning anything?” Rey asked. She tried to keep her voice steady.

 

Ben pushed back his hair with his other hand. He looked like he was also having a hard time with words.

 

“Because I don’t believe that,” continued Rey. “There are things that are real. You can see them, you can feel them.” 

 

The look in his eyes seemed full, but there was a hint of the hollowness she’d seen there before. As if he were half-in and half-out of the real world.

 

“Sometimes I think I should just go far away and not come back,” said Ben. “I just make everything bad. I tear everything apart into pieces.”

 

“You don’t, Ben,” Rey said. She wanted to stand up and shout at him. “You went away before, did that make things better?” Ben shook his head.

 

“Ben, you decided to rejoin the living. You don’t get to control what the rest of us do about it when you do that. When we were together, I’ve never felt so strong and brave. You don’t get to just say that never happened,” Rey said.

 

“See,” he said. “Look how wonderful you are. When you talk, I feel what you’re saying is real. But when I get bad, it all goes away. I feel like so much of me is missing. You should be with someone whole.” 

 

Rey hissed, “I am not whole. I fuck up all the time. I’m lonely and feel bad. We all feel like rotten human beings on the inside.” 

 

Ben jerked, “I’ve probably done several more really fucked up things than you have.”

 

“It isn’t a contest, Ben,” she replied. “You don’t win anything by being worse than me.” 

 

Ben laughed gently at that. “I missed you,” he said.

 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Ben continued. “I just wanted you to be happy.”

 

“Ben, I was happy with you. I’ve never felt happier,” Rey said. “You seemed happy too. I thought I had made you unhappy, when you said all that that night.”

 

Ben pressed his forehead into her shoulder. “Oh god, no. I was pissed at myself. I didn’t want you to see all of that, to have to see me that way.” 

 

Rey put her hand on the back of his head and ran her fingers through the strands at the back of his neck. “I want to see you all ways,” she answered. She felt Ben take a shuddering inhaled breath.

 

“I can’t promise you that won’t happen again,” he said.

 

“You don’t have to promise anything like that,” Rey said. “I just want you to trust me to make my own choices. Don’t make them in advance for me. That isn’t your job.”

 

Ben looked up and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “What is my job, then?” he asked.

 

“To kiss me, you idiot,” she answered.

 

“I can do that,” Ben said. He brought both hands up to the side of her face and ran his fingers into the roots of her hair and pulled her face to his. Rey was breathless as his full lips brushed gently against her mouth, and flicked her tongue between his lips, grazing his teeth. She pressed in harder, wanting to fuse him to her with kisses. Rey steadied herself with a hand on his thigh, feeling the long muscle there jump and flex at her touch.She felt her heart soaring, and there was a roar in her ears like the ocean.

 

Ben pulled away to catch a breath, and said, “Maybe we should adjourn to some other place? I’m not sure here in the pine needles is the place for this.”

 

“Ah,” Rey said. “Probably not,” she blushed. She’d tell him sometime about her invented encounter with him in the grove of trees, but not today. On her way back through the maze, she plucked a rose from one of the rosebushes, and tucked it into her purse.

 

When they found themselves back in the Organa parking lot, Rey agreed to follow him in her car.

 

She got into the Falcon and turned the key. Nothing happened. She waited a second and tried to turn the key over again. There was a clicking noise, and the slight hum the car had tried to make choked and died.Rey looked out the driver’s side window and spotted Ben coming back to the side of her car. His smile was so huge, she thought his face was going to break.

 

“Thank fucking god,” he said. “This is the happiest day of my life.” 

 

***

 

“Were you surprised to see me?” asked Rey. They left her wreck of a car for the tow truck in the parking lot, Ben insisting she ride with him. She hardly had to be persuaded. Their fingers curled together on the front seat like they’d never been apart.

 

“Um,” said Ben. “Actually, old Ben told me he’d seen you last week. He also tore me a new asshole, in his own genteel way, while he was at it.”

 

“Because of what?” Rey asked, raising her eyebrows.

 

Ben looked at her sideways. “He thought my behavior recently had been less than gentlemanly, and he told me so. He also said I was a fool, a coward, and possibly a poltroon. I told him I agreed.” 

 

Rey chuckled. “What else have you been up to since I saw you last?” she asked.

 

Ben said, “Well, this is weird. You aren’t the first person to come surprise me in the parking lot at NCC lately.”

 

“Oh really,” Rey said. 

 

Ben cleared his throat.“Last week Hux showed up. He was waiting for me after my film class, which is at night. It was fucking dark and I nearly had a stroke. I think he was drunk.”

 

“Oh my god,” exclaimed Rey.

 

“Yeah, he was right by my car, and when he saw me he started ranting at me. Something about his job, getting fired, and I was a fucker, and my mom was a bitch and a whore, and so were you. He yelled something about his artwork in L.A. It was fucking incoherent.” 

 

Rey gasped. “Holy shit,” she exhaled reverently.

 

“He seemed to think I’d told my mom something about what he’d done to you, and she’d come after him. I didn’t though,” Ben said, mystified.

 

“Oh shit,” said Rey. “Did you tell him that?”

 

“Nah,” said Ben. “I just clotheslined the fucker on general principle. I figured he had it coming no matter what all _that_ shit was about. Wait, why are you laughing?”

 

Rey was collapsed against her car seat, gasping with uncontrollable peals of giggles. She started to hiccup.

 

“Ben,” she said finally. “Oh, god, do I have a story to tell you.”

 

***

 

“Rey,” Ben gasped.

 

“What?” Rey asked.

 

“Put your hand there again.”

 

They were back at last in the upstairs bedroom, where Ben had moved in more of his belongings. Rey had noticed this detail somewhat as Ben had backed her into the room earlier, leaning into a messy but heartfelt kiss.He’d peppered her jaw with small kisses, making humming noises deep in his throat. They’d both hit the bed ungracefully, like boats washed ashore in a storm.

 

“Right here?” she asked. 

 

The smooth skin of the head of his cock tightened under her fingers. It seemed to have missed her terribly, and she greeted it with enthusiasm. 

 

Ben bit the side of her neck, fighting for control as she tightened her grip and eased her fingers down his length.

 

Her hand ran down the expanse of his back, luxuriating in its protective presence. She pressed her palm into the small of his lower back and felt his groan rumble into her chest.

 

Her fingers rapidly exerted more pressure on Ben’s straining cock, as she smiled into his torso. Ben growled and flipped her onto her back.

 

“Beast,” he said.

 

Ben’s lips traced a crazed and heated path down her torso--the long bones of his legs sawed against her legs, as he caged her in. His hands closed themselves around her hips, almost touching finger to finger as they encircled her hip bones.

 

“Ben,” Rey said, bucking her hips against his hands.

 

“Hush,” he said, “your turn.”

 

The violet spring light filtered drunkenly through the curtains of the room. Rey’s eyes travelled wildly across the ceiling, and she braced her hands above her head. Ben’s tongue traced lightly across her midsection and downwards, over her mound. She glanced down, and met his eyes, hot with mischief, as he drew out this caress, on his way to her pussy. Rey pressed her fingertips into Ben’s skull, feeling every bump through his hair, trying to compel him downward.

 

His tongue brushed a wet lick across her pussy, and she ground down, trying to get him closer. Sparks tingled through her pelvis and shot up her chest, and her breath caught.

 

Ben’s mouth covered her, licking rhythmically with relish, sucking her delicately between his lips.

 

Rey smothered a cry, biting the back of her wrist, her eyes hot and wet. Ben leaned into her and quickened his pace. She was so spread out under his mouth, she wasn’t sure where she ended, and he began.

 

Her heels ground into the sheets, and she was aware she was making noises.Ben pressed his palm into her stomach, and held her in place, nuzzling her until her lower back was on fire with sensation. 

 

A feeling like glass breaking ripped through her, and her mouth made a silent shout.

 

Fingers entered her, and she ground down. She was so close, but she didn’t want to finish without Ben.

 

“Come here,” she gasped.

 

She wanted to get closer.

 

Ben travelled back upwards, and placed fervid kisses onto her ribs, her breasts, her neck.

 

Rey rolled her hips lewdly on his erection, which was dripping with a pearl of pre-cum on the tip and was heated and crimson.

 

He dipped a hand into the nightstand drawer and drew out a condom. The foil wrapper resisted, and he swore with frustration, but tore it free quickly. Rey held his cock steady as he unfurled the condom down his length and then she rolled him onto his back.

 

Ben sucked his breath in between his teeth with a hiss as Rey crawled over his torso and positioned herself over his cock.

 

“Don’t ever leave me again,” she growled out, and thrust herself down.

 

“No,” Ben gasped. “I mean, yes.”

 

Rey placed her hands on his chest and gazed into his eyes. The feeling of tenderness was overwhelming, and she tried to stay stern. She ground rhythmically on his cock, her thoughts breaking up. She was afraid she’d failed to convey the importance of the day, to deliver her message.

 

Maybe her body would say what her voice would not. The tip of Ben’s cock rolled purposefully inside of her, she could feel every ridge of it, every inch. Rey thrust herself against him for several minutes, pleasure flowing like bubbles in her blood.

 

Ben felt her body soften, and grasped her, rolling her around and back into the mattress so he was on top of her.His fingertips crushed into her ass, and he thundered into her mercilessly.The friction against her built up into a crazed contest to see who was going to go higher. Suddenly, she ignited and yelled out as her body thrashed with a stabbing and electrical charge. Ben followed her seconds later with a low moan and crashed against her.

 

His fingers plucked gently at her hair, and twitched, pulling the pillow around to support her head.

 

“I love you,” Ben said.

 

“I know,” said Rey.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Golden Heart" https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/golden-heart/
> 
> Yay, happy one year anniversary of The Last Jedi! I've been a reylo for nearly one whole year, and never thought I'd ever get this deep into a fandom. What a trip. 
> 
> I apologize for posting this super-earlier than usual. I'm a little insecure about the emotional success of this resolution and just want to get it over with. I have to remind myself that writing a whole-ass novel was a thing I never thought I could do, and just do better next time. 
> 
> Next week's chapter is a tooth-rotting fluff-ridden epilogue with a holiday theme. I hope everyone will have a wonderful weekend! See you next week for the finish. xo


	33. Oh, but the winter freezes on and the candle’s burned low

December 24, 2008

 

 

It took some doing, but Ben had finally persuaded Rey to move into the Organa house. 

 

“But Finn and Rose,” Rey had said. “They’ll have to make up my share of the rent if I move out of our place.” 

 

Seemingly fate, or her conspiring friends, addressed that concern. Finn let drop one evening that Poe was looking for a new place to live and wasn’t it a shame that they didn’t have room for him.

 

Rey shot Finn and Rose a sideways glance. Rose was staring at the ceiling suppressing a grin, and Finn was looking at Rey, trying to look innocent. He’d always sucked at that.

 

“Isn’t that interesting,” said Rey. “What happened to his place?’ Poe had lived for years in a semi-anarchist co-op that existed by the principles of mutual aid.

 

“Poe said that the house decided to go vegan without voting on it, and when he pointed out that a meatless cuisine had the potential to have embedded cultural biases they had a big house meeting. Some of the kids started crying that he was calling them racist and said that Poe supported the capitalist factory farming system, and was therefore upholding the ruling classes,” said Finn. “Frankly I think he’s just tired of sharing a bathroom with five other guys. He gave thirty days notice.” 

 

Rey rolled her eyes. The story almost sounded true, she had to hand it to them.

 

“Well actually,” said Rey, “Ben asked if I wanted to move into his house. His mom’s house. Their house.”

 

Rose and Finn gave dual fake squeals of surprise. Rey suspected that Ben may have let a few hints drop when she was out of earshot at their last gathering.

 

“Won’t it be weird for you guys, having Poe move in with you two?” asked Rey.

 

“In this economy, we all have to make sacrifices,” said Rose.“Besides, he’s a killer cook. So really, we’re kind of gaining in this deal, no offense.”

 

“We’ll miss you, Peanut!” said Finn. “But, we can come visit you.”

 

***

 

Rey tried to not feel guilty about essentially moving into a palace (by her standards) in the middle of what was turning into the new Great Depression.Leia and Ben had both laughed when Rey brought up paying them rent.

 

“Honey, if you feel like you have to, you can do some yardwork. There’s a greenhouse no one has been in for years that could use some love. Some day you two kids might want your own place. But I’m almost never here—someone might as well use the house,” said Leia.

 

Gradually, Rey and Ben stretched out into the spaces offered by the unused parts of the house.Rey unlocked the dark greenhouse, which jutted out from the back of the house, and changed the lightbulbs. She spent a morning starting to sort and clean it out. 

 

She bought a few seedlings at the hardware store, with little idea of what to do. Rey had never tried to keep anything alive before, and she watched her tiny new plants anxiously, hoping they’d thrive.

 

“You don’t have to look at them every day,” Ben said. “I’m sure they do just fine in nature without someone checking in and watching them.” He hugged her anyway though.

 

Ben was helping run Manticore Books with Old Ben, who had admitted that winter that he was feeling his age. It was easy to work some shifts in at the store between his classes at Niima, and he loved being around all the old books and maps.

 

He’d also commissioned Finn to help craft a website for the bookstore, to help stimulate more trade than the occasional accidental customer from foot traffic in an isolated residential neighborhood.

 

Rey was in the store with Ben one day when a young mom brought in her small son.

 

The boy’s eyes were wide, and he stared with awe around the dark blue ceiling at the strings of lights and the piles of books.His mom brought him up to the counter. 

 

“You like maps?” asked Ben. “I do too. I think we have some you’ll be interested in.”

 

He rolled out drawers from the flat files under the counter and extracted mylar-encased pieces of vellum and parchment.

 

The young boy leaned in with a gasp and his fingers clamped down on the counter, as if he could barely control his excitement.

 

His mother drifted back to give them both space and leaned over to Rey and said, “He just loves maps. He’s been drawing his own, and we have seen a few antiques in museums around here. I did a search on the internet to see what else we could look at and this was one of the first places that popped up.”

 

“I promised him one for Christmas if he got straight A’s this year,” she continued. “He even aced social studies, which he hates, so here we are.” 

 

Rey smiled. She could relate to someone with a passion for research. “I hope he finds something he likes,” she said. “He’s in good hands.”

 

“That man is so good with kids,” the mom said. “Does he have any of his own?”

 

“Not yet,” said Rey. “But someday.”

 

***

 

Summer had rolled past, and fall did too, and still there was no word from NCC about a teaching position opening up again for Rey.

 

Poe had reported that the college district had had to make even deeper cuts, although his job had survived. He ran for a position as a site rep for the faculty union and reported that the Board of Trustees had laid off around eighty part-timers, to preserve full-time positions from getting cut too.

 

Rey had coffee with him after his class was over, near the end of his semester.

 

“They called us the ‘shock absorbers,’ can you believe that?” said Poe.

 

“I can believe it,” Rey said sadly. She missed her students. She quit the job at the chain bookstore, since she wasn’t desperate for rent money any longer, and pitched in instead at Manitcore, helping keep things afloat there. Rey held onto her office job at SJSU though, just so she’d avoid gaping holes in her resumé.

 

Someday, things might get better.

 

***

 

“You should do more of your artwork,” Ben said one day, out of the blue. “Try to get into shows.”

 

“I don’t have a studio space,” Rey said. She _was_ itching to keep her work going and had been drawing ideas in her sketchbook. 

 

Ben rolled his eyes and looked at her with fond exasperation. “Rey, we have plenty of space. Just pick a room.”

 

“Can I use the ballroom?” she asked shyly. Rey had been eyeing this space for weeks, with its long walls and bare hardwood parquet floors. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

 

“Of course, you can. I’ll warn you if we are about to have any formal dances soon,” Ben said. “But I think you are safe for now.” He smiled.

 

Rey moved a couple of card tables into the ballroom and unpacked her art supplies. She put up protective sheets of paper on the walls and lined the floor with drop cloths.

 

She scrounged huge sheets of watercolor paper from the free pile at the art department at SJSU and pinned them up all along the walls of the room.

 

Ben had an old boombox in his former bedroom, and she brought that in with her too and set it up on the table. _Scavenger_ , she thought.

 

Rey selected a tape from a box of her old college music and pressed the cartridge into the tape deck of the cassette player and pressed play. 

 

_I'm a human fly_  
I spell (it) F-L-Y   
I say buzz buzz buzz   
and it's just because   
I'm a human fly   
and I don't know why

 

Her art supplies were arranged in a system that made sense only to her on the table, and she hummed with anticipation. She took off her shoes and made her way carefully onto a drop cloth in front of a piece of paper on the wall.

 

Her arm took wing and sketched in bold lines in charcoal. Then she stood back and looked at the results. Rey cracked her big toe on the floor and then moved in again to her drawing.

 

At a certain point, hours later, she became aware that Ben was watching her from the door. She turned around and smiled at him. Her hands were stained with brown ink and charcoal, and her face was smudged.

 

Ben was grinning at her and nodded toward her painting. “It’s nice to see you working to your full potential, professor.”

 

Rey rose up on the balls of her feet, feeling like she could almost levitate and fly around the room. 

 

“Come here,” she said. Ben pushed himself off of the doorjamb where he’d been leaning and walked over to Rey. She pulled him down for a kiss.

 

 

***

 

Ben, for his part, had been spending more time at the Niima VA, talking to veterans there, and getting more footage and photographs.If the experience stirred painful memories in him, he mostly kept it to himself, although Rey knew that he still experienced bad dreams and sleepless nights. 

 

“You might think about teaching some classes there,” Ben said one night, as they finished off a bottle of wine on the couch after dinner. “There’s an occupational program in the arts starting up, and they are looking for teachers.”

 

They were both curled up on the sofa, staring into the fire in the library study hearth. 

 

Rey looked at the side of Ben’s face, glowing in the orange and yellow glare of the flames.

 

He went on, “Some other artists have been teaching in the program. Evidently there’s some studies going on about trauma and art. Anyway, I thought of you, and told them I’d ask you.

 

“I’d love to,” said Rey.

 

“It probably wouldn’t pay much,” said Ben. “But you’d be perfect for it.”

 

Rey said, “It sounds wonderful, Ben. I’d love to do it.”

 

***

 

For their first Christmas together, they’d decided to spend Christmas eve together alone. Leia and their friends would join them in the morning for Christmas day, and for brunch and dinner in a cozy group at Organa house.

 

After Christmas, they would head back up to Lake Arrowhead, to celebrate in the snow.

 

Rey had saved her money, and had gotten Ben a new wooden pen holder, turned in fine hardwood. She also found some interesting nibs, shaped and engraved like hands, to go with it. A tiny bottle of indigo ink from Germany rounded out the present. She made him a card in watercolor and charcoal, depicting a smoky crow, holding a twig of holly in his beak.

 

Ben had gifted Rey with the Arthur Rackham illustrated collection of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, and also a fine old copy of The Haunted Bookshop, by Christopher Morley. He’d moved a book case into their room, and they were both slowly filling it with well-loved favorites for the other to read.

 

Taking the books upstairs after dinner to put away, Rey paused in the bedroom to prepare her final gift for the night.She tried to not take too long, so Ben wouldn’t wonder where she was and wander upstairs to look for her.Donning her long bathrobe, she returned to the living room.The room was a cheery and glowing sight from the blinking lights on the small tree Ben and Rey had hauled home and decorated together.

 

Ben was testing his new pen out on a scrap piece of paper, hunched over cramped little flourishes rendered in ink. Rey enjoyed the way the lights played across his features, flashing light and dark. His hair was rumpled slightly, and pieces drifted down around his face as he concentrated on his fanciful lettering.

 

“We should get out your book on ink recipes and make some of our own now, that would be cool,” Ben said, still writing.

 

“I have another present for you,” Rey said.

 

“Oh?” said Ben. He peered under the tree to see if there was another gift lurking under a branch. Seeing nothing, he turned to look at her, slightly confused.

 

Rey bit her lip and undid the sash of her bathrobe.She’d had to design and make the shirt herself, hiding her project from Ben while he was elsewhere. She’d tried it on earlier this morning, feeling a little nervous.

 

It was a green t-shirt with the word “Foxy” hand-sewn on with tiny silver sequins. She’d paired it with a short orange-red plaid kilt.While she was changing upstairs, she’d put on a pair of black knee boots to complete the ensemble and hid the whole outfit under her long robe.

 

Rey stood up and let the bathrobe slip off to the floor.

 

“Rey,” said Ben.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Autumngirlsoup, which I've been mispelling as Autumnsoupgirl this whole time, curse my brain. https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/songs/kirsty-songs/autumngirlsoup/
> 
> A year ago I never thought I'd write a novel, let alone share it with anyone. I'd always had a mild desire to write something based on my art school years--lots of little bits I'd had in my head for years crept their way into this story, to my surprise. 
> 
> Although I don't know if my prose is capable of the depth of feeling I admire in other writers, I'm hoping to keep going, since I enjoyed creating this little world. Thank you to everyone who read along patiently, either lurking or commenting--it's been a tough year, and it meant a lot to me that people read this and appreciated it. 
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so insanely tooth-rottingly fluffy, but after the torments I put these kids through, I just wanted them to have a sweet Christmas together. I hope everyone has a fun and relaxing holiday season! xo

**Author's Note:**

> All of the chapter titles are taken from titles or lyrics from Kirsty MacColl songs--her work has been the soundtrack for every true love and heartbreak in my life. If there is interest, I'll arrange a play list. In the meantime, most of her work can be found on YouTube (she was sadly killed in an accident several years ago.) https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/
> 
> The title of this whole work is taken from an Emily Dickinson poem, "Hope is the thing with feathers"--https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314


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